The holidays are fast approaching, and that means December 23 is coming again. It looms over me like a dark, menacing cloud just over my shoulder–bringing feelings of dread and wariness, threatening more. How will it feel this year? I wonder. Will the feelings be just as strong, but different? Or will they be achingly familiar, but not as strong?
One stubborn conviction I cling to every year: I will not allow the sadness to overwhelm the utter joy and fun that celebrating Christmas brings. Robb loved Christmas–loved every single part of it: the decorating, the delicious treats, the purchasing of gifts for loved ones and the anticipation of what he would receive. He loved surprising all of us with gifts, and especially relished buying toys for Tucker and Tyler. You see, Robb had that spirit of playfulness, just like his dad does. Whether Craig taught him to be that way…whether Robb “caught” it by subconscious imitation…or whether he determinedly decided to mimic Craig’s ability to enter into fun like a child again….Robb did that, and he did it well. That made for one wonderful trait in a daddy–and especially at Christmas when the tree was surrounded by toys and two eager little guys. So I’m determined to know that joy because Robb would want us to–I know he would.
That last Thanksgiving with all of us together, in 2010, Craig, Tucker, Abby, Tyler, Nathan and I gathered to take a picture to put on our Christmas cards. As you would expect, getting four active bodies to sit still for any length of time proved a challenge, to say the least! The process itself was cause for plenty of giggles and wiggles and adorable grins. I don’t even remember now if we used one of these pictures on our cards; recollections from that year other than the overwhelming memories surrounding losing Robb are hazy, at best. But now I realize it was more about the process…and how I will cherish that time for one over-riding reason: it was the last time.
We never know when might be the last time, do we? It could be this Thanksgiving, this Christmas, or even tomorrow. So hold your loved ones…read a book together…give him/her kisses and hugs and take time to just sit and absorb the spirit of that special person. We’ve all heard it said that “you can’t take it with you,” and that you “move into the next world with nothing from this one.” I disagree. The one thing we take with us? How we’ve been intimately changed by relationships, those that we allow to touch our hearts and mold our spirits in new ways. That means developing and nurturing relationships–first with our Lord and then with those we love–are the most important things we can do.
Sit down with a mug of coffee. Take time to chat. Open your heart and allow another to reveal his or hers. Because you never know. It could be the last time….
Comments 1
Anniversaries are hard, yes. Praying right now as you approach this time again, God’s presence will be real in the pain.