Grief in the Manger

I was saddened to see several friends announce the passing of loved ones during the Christmas holidays. This was the fourth Christmas since Mama died on December 22nd of 2009. That first Christmas there was no room in my heart for joy, for celebration, for the baby in the manger. In the manger there was only grief. I spent days wrapped in one of Mama's sweaters, her scent all that I had of her, numb and alone, for no matter who is there to offer love and support, each of us grieve alone. I was not alone in my grief though, as Thom had also recently lost his mother on the first of November. In our mourning, we sought comfort and found a church and a church family. Maybe that was the miracle of that Christmas, that inevitable as it was that our mothers would one day make their way home to Jesus, it would happen at this time while we were in this place to find this church and these people.

The following Christmas was pure escapism spent in Virginia. We took Sam and stayed at the home of a friend of my paternal cousin's who was away for the holiday. We immersed ourselves in family - Christmas Eve service, Christmas dinner at Tracy's with her husband, her two boys and their girlfriends, and my sister, Bonnie. We laughed, and reminisced, ate, opened gifts, and except for brief moments, the sadness of the previous year were avoided. Hearing that we were about to have snow, and a great deal of it, we went and bought a stash of food - chili, soup, hot chocolate and enjoyed the adventure of being snowed in by a blizzard. Sam loves the snow and wanted to go out every five minutes bringing laughter into our hearts. I thought, okay, I can deal with my loss and can enjoy Christmas.

So last year, we stayed home. We did a dinner out Christmas Eve with our grandson, Adrian and his wife to be, Morgan. It was a sweet time as it always is when we are with them. But Christmas day was gloomy, cold and lonely. Not only missing of our mothers, we missed our children and our grandchildren who were back in California. We vowed we would not spend Christmas at home alone ever again. 

This year we made plans to go to Charleston. The Sunday before we left, we enjoyed a family dinner at the house with Adrian and Morgan and another grandson, Wyatt and his girlfriend, Jasmine. And, we got to talk with Diane in Oregon. It was a nice family celebration. On the 23rd, we had dinner with our friend, Ruth in Charleston. We spent Christmas Eve day at the old market place wishing and being wished a Merry Christmas by many, smiles and laughter decorating our hearts. We met a nice young couple at the reception at the Inn that night and chatted, enjoyed the decorations, the appetizers, wine and over all good cheer of people around us. I went to bed content, if not joyous. I talked to Mama as I lay in the dark. No tears, no guilt, just "I love you and I miss you. I wish you were here." Christmas Day was nice. I enjoyed Thom's company and our dinner at Blossom. We Skyped with Tom and Sandy and laughed at the excitement of the two little ones telling us what they got from Santa. But, it still wasn't the heartfelt celebration I wanted.  It still wasn't a true celebration of the birth of Christ. But there is much less grief in the manger, much more faith - much less sadness, much more acceptance. All this a result of the last gift and legacy of our mothers - church, a church family, a renewed faith in our Creator and Savior. Maybe next year there will be abundant joy - quiet joy . . . and peace . . . and Baby Jesus back in the manger. 

Blessed are they that mourn
For they shall be comforted. 
                        Matthew 5:4

The Promised Land

I never could understand why my mother wouldn't join her family in California when there was no family left with her in Virginia. And, I still don't understand why - with both my children on the west coast - I have no desire to leave where I am. With my mom, I thought it was the nuisance of moving and leaving of friends (which certainly played some part in it), but I just couldn't understand why she wouldn't want to be close to us - me, her only child, and Tom and Diane, her two much loved grandchildren.

Thom and I recently spent the Thanksgiving holiday with Tom, Sandy, Patrick and Aiden. In addition to celebrating Thanksgiving we also celebrated Aiden's second birthday. It was such a fun time. Tom and Sandy really want us to come back to California. I could not ask for a more wonderful son! Tom is gentle, considerate and loving! Sandy likewise, is a beloved daughter-in-law and she came with a bonus of a wonderful extended family whom we enjoy emensely. And Patrick and Aiden? Well, there are no more beautiful, sweet, intelligent grand children than mine! (I'm sure you will forgive me!) And, I miss them terribly. I am always in fear that when they are older I will so much regret that I wasn't close by to watch them grow up. Why then, would I not want to move back there?

God promised Moses he would bring his people home. It would take years for that to happen and Moses never saw the Promised Land. But, this I can tell you - I am in my promised land, this is where God has called me, this is home. Much of this feeling comes, yes, from the spiritual family I have found, but mostly from the relationship I have found here with God. Sometimes I cannot help but to picture God planning my life, directing us mysteriously to follow Diane and her family to North Carolina. Did He know she would leave?

Some of our critters. Clockwise from top left; Charlie, Benjamin, and one of the clowns!

Did He select for us this beautiful spot in which we live? Here where I sit each morning and contemplate the beauty of His creation? Every day of the year, He sends me beauty - landscapes filled with pastel spring colors, rich deep autumn hues, the quiet reflective stillness of a snowy meadow! He gifts me with a continually changing choir of birds, squirrels - the jesters of my world, deer, bunnies, groundhogs. I would never have imagined! I have yet to see a black bear or a fox, but, He will not let me down.

The meadow and "lake" which appears with heavy rainfall, the hedgerow and the back meadow. 

And did he direct us to Lake Forest Church - for surely there are angels there who have guided us, loved us and protected us! These, too, are my family. I will never love anyone more than my son and daughter and their families. But, this is my Promised Land, here I am firmly planted, at least until God leads me elsewhere, and . . . I am happy.