Well, I haven't written anything lately, and I'm not sure I have too much to say tonight. It is nearly Christmas, and as anyone who has lost someone close them can tell you, this time of year is just tough.
Thanksgiving came and went. My dad always loved this holiday in particular. A home cooked meal and good conversation were his two favorite things and Thanksgiving has both. I couldn't help but think of how he couldn't enjoy it this year.
My birthday came and went. That was a tough day. Dad had been on an Internet card kick and usually sent me a dumb one (that made me roll my eyes) along with another card in the mail. This year I obviously got neither- and you know? I really wished I had a silly card that made me roll my eyes.This was the only birthday my entire life that I didn't hear from him. My loss was greatly felt on this day, but my husband did an excellent job at keeping me sidetracked. I'm pretty sure that is my way of dealing with this death... staying busy. Not that I can help but be busy with 4 children.
Now Christmas is almost here. My dad was never for Christmas. As a young girl, my mom used to drive me to his house and I would pull out a small tree from his basement, place it in his living room, and decorate it for him. I always tried to convince him to put up lights outside, but he would have no part of that. I've been recalling Christmas's spent with him, which weren't many until I became an adult and he had grandchildren. If the roads were clear enough, he liked to make the trek down from Idaho to spend it with us. He really fancied my Martha Stewart homemade eggnog. Last year, he gave us a bunch of family games. One is called "Would you rather.?" and is filled with stupid scenarios. For example: Would you rather eat toe jam or your neighbors ear wax? Would you rather let a spider crawl over your face or eat a whole banana peel? Needless to say, it is good old roll your eyes fun!
I haven't allowed my kids to get it out since he died, and I'm not sure the reason. I guess the same reason I am holding onto everything so tight- it's the last I have of him, forever. I can't bear to allow anything to happen to the things I am holding on so tight to! They are the last strand, the last morsel of closeness to my dad that I have. Something tangible. If they are ruined, misplaced or lost, I will never have a chance to get them back, just like I'll never have a chance to get my dad back.
This holiday season, we are working not to ask the "whys", but instead, "Would you rather make a difference in the world around you? Or sit and constantly allow your own sorrow to drown any potential for making someone else's life better.
I failed my dad by not seeing his pain for what it was. This Christmas, I'm taking the eyes off me and looking at those less likely to be seen around me.
Yes indeed, it is good when you truly obey the Lord's command; you must love and care for your neighbor just as much as you love and take care of yourself. James 2:8
