Ken and I were getting ready to leave for our church's Christmas Eve service, followed by a little trip to Dallas for the Slate side of things at my Mama's house. Everybody crowds into her garden-sized place, taking no heed to all the warnings...eating, talking, laughing, living. My Mama ain't scared. She said if she goes now, she'll be with Daddy and it's a shortcut to glory. I might not be as free as all that, but we're winging it and doing what we can.
I got dressed then walked the dog. It was North-Pole-cold and sleeting. I checked the weather app and it showed it was only going to get colder, and it was already feeling like somebody switched us for North Dakota. Because of the sleet, we abruptly decided to stay home. That meant no Christmas Eve service, no going to Mama's house, no Slate visit...just a Grinchy, lonely Christmas Eve. I burst into tears. Ken wanted to know why he wasn't enough. That just made it worse. I said "Now it's not Christmas!"
These last few years, we have a tradition of going to Waffle House on Christmas morning, then the grown kids and grands all come over for brunch-at-lunch. Everybody brings breakfast foods and dessert and we have what Samwise Gamgee would call Second Breakfast. So at noon, they started piling in. Each group of grandkids bounced into the house until we had all eight (all nine if you count the one in the oven). There is nothing like the delight of children at Christmastime...and there's nothing better than being with all your cousins at the same event. The decibels got louder and louder, the squeals and physical gyrations got more dramatic. The kids were running all over the house, with the dog herding right behind them. As each family came into the house and I got hugged over and over, the stress and worry of the previous day just fell off. There were messes, food, spills, lots of wrapping paper, jokes and laughter, warmth and joy. Our annual family portrait was definitely the worst ever, with everyone in their mismatched pajamas and looking less-than coiffed.
Things eventually began to wind down and old Grandaddy Norton rose to leave. We lost Grandmama this year to cancer and this was his first Christmas without her. With much difficulty, he gave us a sweet charge...to love one another, to keep our eyes on the Lord and to keep keeping on. Then he prayed, blessing us all. He spoke of the Lord's mercy on us and how we must never take that for granted. In just those few moments, those nuggets of love and wisdom summed up what all the hoopla was about.
Once again, the page turns and we face a new year. Uncertainty, weariness, worry, and the unknown stand before us. That's no different than any year. We all have our bends in the road on any given day or decade. There are storms to battle, trees to fell, paths to take...all which could go well or turn into seeming disaster. For me and my house, we're not going to cower in fear, waiting for the unrevealed to happen. There's life to be lived, death is always waiting and we should always be ready. Seize the day.
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