Musings of an Aging Nobody

Where  are you Christmas
Why can’t I find you
Why have you gone away

Where is the laughter
You used to bring me
Why can’t I hear music play

My world is changing
I’m rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too

Where are you Christmas
Do you remember
The one you used to know

I’m not the same one
See what the time’s done
Is that why you have let me go

Those lyrics as you probably know are from the song “Where Are You Christmas” from the movie How the Grinch Stole Christmas in the year 2000. I have always liked that song, kind of sad though, there have been a few times it has made me cry.

 

It was sometime before Thanksgiving.  Hayley came by to visit.

“Hayley,” I said, “Christmas is cancelled this year.”

“Kim and I are going to your grandparents for Christmas, we are not going to do anything here.  You should go and spend Christmas with your nephews in Florida.”

I am not sure she was too happy, as I recall she didn’t say much or give me a hug or kiss goodbye when she left.

A couple weeks later Hayley called me to ask if she was seriously not invited to spend Christmas with us at my parents.

So I said, “Hayley seriously… which would you rather do…spend Christmas with your nephews in Florida or watch Fox 5 for two days?

She bought the tickets to Florida.

 

I had always put a lot of energy into our Christmases.

But for the first time in my life I didn’t have a Christmas tree.

And for the first time since Kim and I have been together, we didn’t send out a Christmas card with a  Christmas letter.

This year we just didn’t have the energy.

 

That first Christmas after Donny’s accident we tied a Christmas tree to the roof of my van and headed out to Deep Creek, Maryland.  We rented a house up in the woods, it snowed, we were all together, but most importantly we were away from what was familiar.  Nothing would seem familiar that Christmas, it was impossible.

For the next fourteen Christmases we returned to the routine that was familiar here at home. Celebrating on Christmas Eve with family and some friends who became family along the way.

But even after all that time, this year, now the 16^th Christmas following the accident, the need to visit the unfamiliar once again seemed like the right thing to do.  And since my parents were going to be home alone for this Christmas, that seemed like the right place to do it.

 

Kim gave me a short book to read called the Christmas Box by Richard Paul Evans.  I finished it one evening a couple of weeks ago.

The message of the book was about the first gift of Christmas:

And this is because of the great gift of Christmas.  Because He came.

Coincidentally, the next morning I read a devotional that I get every day in my email.  I will admit, I don’t always take the time to read them, but that morning I did.

Once again, it was about that first gift of Christmas:

For God so Loved the World that he gave his only begotten Son.

 

I have a friend who lost her son just a few weeks before this Christmas.  For her, the journey has just begun.  For her this Christmas would be unfamiliar, unlike any before, but not by choice.

I heard a sermon recently and the preacher said, “Mary, Elizabeth, and John the Baptist tell us that this Christmas for you could be a time for healing…”

At the time with everything that Christmas wasn’t for us this year, that sounded like a good thing.

Though I thought to myself Christmas is a time for many things, and I hoped healing, but that may be easier said than done.

 

One Saturday earlier this month, Kim and I took our grandson Cameron to see the new Grinch movie.  Though I thought it was your typical “Grinch” story retold, I liked it and Cameron seemed to really like it.

A few days a later, I asked Kim to go back with me and watch the Grinch movie again.

“You want me to go with you to see The Grinch again?”  She asked a bit confused. “And why do you want to go see The Grinch again?”

“I don’t know… I just want to,” I told her, feeling a little silly.

“Okay…”

So we did.

There’s a scene in the movie when remorse sets in and The Grinch admits his crime to the citizens of Whoville who, to his dismay, remained joyous in spite of having all their Christmas presents and Christmas decorations stolen:

“It was me I stole your Christmas.

 I stole it because I thought it would fix something that happened a long time ago.

But it didn’t… and I am sorry, I am so very sorry for everything.”

 

Isn’t that the truth?

We can’t fix those things that happened a long time ago, sixteen years ago, or even in the last few weeks.

Things happen.

But despite our lack of energy and our desire to get away from reminders of those things…

Christmas can’t be stolen.

Because we have that first Gift of Christmas.

And because of that Christmas may, in fact, be about healing.

But maybe not healing in its direct meaning.

It may be more about the fact that we may never heal.

Because we may never need to.

Because He has us.

 

Joy to the World, the Lord is Come.

Merry Christmas

 

Epilogue

It’s the day before Christmas Eve. Unexpectedly, we are on our way to western Pennsylvania.  Short of some edits, I had basically finished writing this essay Wednesday evening, December 19.  The next morning Kim called me at work and told me that Nevin, the husband of our niece Cassandra, working the night shift, had lost his life in a mine accident.  He was a former Marine, a wonderful husband, a great father, and just a nice guy.  He leaves behind a wonderful wife, three beautiful young children, and many other family members.   Another Christmas that will be  unfamiliar for some and sadly familiar for others.  Another reminder that things happen and we can’t fix them.  Nevin is with Jesus now and the rest of us have to rely on our faith, the faith in the first Gift of this season.  A final message from that same sermon on healing, “We can keep the faith even in the face of our difficulties and grief, we can find joy in Jesus Christ.”

We can…I know it.

Please keep this family also in your prayers this Christmas.