Thursday, December 11, 2014

Last Christmas With Mom


Christmas 1991 was a wonderful holiday for us.  My oldest daughter was about 6 weeks old and we were in a nice, new apartment.  Mom and dad were coming to visit for Christmas.  The plans were made that as soon as dad got off of work, they would drive down from Ham Lake, MN to our place in Glendale Heights, Il.  

All of us were excited to see them.  It seemed the perfect holiday.  While the temperature wasn't too cold, there was snow on the ground.  Our oldest son was 7.  He had such an spring in his step in the days leading up to Christmas.  He was so good with his baby sister.  All of us had smiles.  

After supper on Christmas Eve, we sang Christmas carols and opened a couple presents.  My wife put the baby down to sleep and she went to sleep too.  That left the 2 men of the house.  D wanted to stay awake until grandma and grandpa arrived or until Santa got to the house, whichever came first.  Of course, I wanted him to go to sleep.  

Normally, D will fall asleep as soon as he is tired.  He still is like that.  He was visiting a couple months ago and I woke up in the middle of the night and heard the TV on.  I went down to shut it off.  He was sitting in a chair that he put right in front of the TV.  He was slumped over with his head almost on his knee.  I shut the TV off and told him to go to bed.  "No, I was watching that." he said.

This night was different.  I could see the determination in his eyes that he wanted to stay awake.  I decided to try someting.  It would be a time of bonding and would probably knock him out.  When I was younger, I started doing something each holiday season that I still do each holiday season.  I lay down on the floor close to the Christmas tree and look at the lights. Sometimes I do this with music and sometimes without music.  I look at the lights and feel the peacefulness of the moment.  I particularly love doing this when it is snowing.  There is something special about Christmas and snow for me.

D and I got down on the floor next to the tree and I told him about my tradition and how I was sharing this with him.  We did this for a couple minutes and he got bored and wanted to do something else.  Darn!  That didn't work.  We read a couple stories and something else that I know longer remember.  He was still awake.  

Finally, I had to pull the parenting trump card.  I said, "You need to go to sleep or Santa is never going to come to this house."  Finally, he relented as long as he could sleep on the floor next to the tree.  That was fine with me.  Once he is out, you could drop him off a bridge with a bungee cord tied to him and a bomb that would go off when he stretches the cord and he wouldn't wake up.  

Sure enough, in about 5 minutes he was out.  Santa arrived shortly after and grandma and grandpa about 20 minutes after that.  D didn't wake up until daylight despite talking for hours and later making breakfast.

One other thing that stands out about that Christmas is the relationship that built between my daughter and mom.  B was a good baby, but she was a little fussy when grandma was there. Finally, mom said that she thought B was hungry.  My wife said that she just fed her.  My mom made a couple more ounces of formula and fed it to her.  She gobbled it all up to my wife's surprise.  While mom was feeding her, B just kept looking at her like she was trying to figure out who she was.  

From this early age, B seemed aware of things.  A few days before, I as listening to the song All is Well and I had a few tears in my eyes.  I was holding B as I listened to this song.  She kept looking at me and it seemed like she was trying to ask why I was crying.  This is partially why the song means so much to me now.

B and my mom developed a special bond in the short time they were together.  They would only spend Valentines Day and a couple other days together before mom died.  

The holidays are a difficult time for people who have lost loved ones.  I know this first hand. However, when the pain of the loss has subsided, the memories of them burn brighter than ever. I wouldn't trade these memories for anything.  

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