As I sit here wondering what I might write about this week, I can only think of Christmas and how much it hurts for some of you. I want to write one single sentence that will make it better, but I can’t. Unfortunately Christmas is a time when grief intensifies. Sometimes I think about my mom a lot, other times about my sister and my nephew but at Christmas time I miss them all at once and when that happens, it’s powerful. Sometimes I get blindsided by a word or a thought or even a Christmas carol and I fight back the tears. Sometimes I want to go back to the time when we came downstairs on Christmas morning and Dad was holding up a bar with spotlights so that there was enough light for Mom to film us with the old movie camera. Sometimes all I want for Christmas is a fire truck and a pair of home made pyjamas. Sometimes I want to open the door of the hay loft on Christmas morning and watch for Bev to turn onto our road after working the night shift at PGH. I wish that our entire family could sit around the dinner table at home on Christmas Day and that Darrell and Joel could play with their toys in the t.v. room. When I think of the joy that Christmas brings to me, I think of children. The best memories that I have of Christmas are when I was a child and later with my own children and grandchildren. Christmas started with the birth of a child. I wish that Mom could have seen my kids grow up and see how proud I am of them and I wish that Bev could have held her grandchildren. But I’m glad that Mom did meet her grandchildren and I’m glad to see Beverley’s smile in her grandchildren. Children…as one of my favourite Christmas songs says:
In the eyes of a child there is joy, there is laughter.
There is hope, there is trust, a chance to shape the future.
For the lessons of life, there is no better teacher,
Than to look in the eyes of a child.
Until next week,