A Blue Christmas?

Posted on December 25, 2009 by Margaret

Nelson’s “Theory of Grieving” is that I miss Nate the most during times when he would have been with me the most. In other words, during business hours, when he used to be gone anyway, I don’t miss him as much as on Sundays when we were together all day. Thanksgiving was hard, because Nate was always involved in preparing for and hosting that event. His absence was keenly felt, and sadness quickly followed. And of course our anniversary was a rough day.

I give credibility to Nelson’s theory. In the seven weeks since Nate’s death, it’s held true. Because of that, I wasn’t looking forward to our traditional Christmas Eve festivities in the Chicago area at my sister’s home. Each year we’ve had a Swedish smorgasbord there with the entire relation on hand, as well as a few close friends. Following that, we’d each hold an unlit candle, recite a short part of the Christmas story from Luke 2, and light our candles one from the other. The oldest person present concluded in prayer. After the serious part of the evening, the kids always put on a loose program of “talent” accompanied by whooping, hollering and clapping for each effort. And finally it was time for gifts, a $25 grab bag first, followed by presents for little-children-only.

Christmas Eve has always been well attended, and Nate has been part of every year’s celebration, until tonight. I knew it would be difficult for me and I was, in a sense, dreading it, a terrible thing to say about Christmas Eve, which shouldn’t be about me anyway.

This afternoon as I was wrapping the last gifts, a Christmas CD began playing “Blue Christmas” by Celine Dion. It’s a beautiful arrangement of an Elvis tune, and I like Celine’s version much better than his. Hearing it triggered a sweet memory of Nate from a few years back when we still lived in the Chicago area. I was coming up from the basement one evening in December, and he was heading toward it. Christmas music was playing on the stereo, and just as we passed each other, Celine’s “Blue Christmas” came on. He stopped. I stopped. He started singing the song in his own tone-deaf way, and on the spur of the minute, I put my arms up as if to say, “Wanna dance?”

Neither of us knows how to dance. We only do it at the weddings of our own children, when under pressure to do so. But right then and there, he put his arm around me and took my other hand in his, and we actually danced through the entire length of “Blue Christmas.” It was more of a shuffle than a dance, but he continued to sing til the end. It was a complete delight to spend those three minutes dancing, and when the song finished, we went back to what we were doing but with a new warm fuzzie in our memory banks.

Somehow this sweet remembrance of Nate set a good tone for today, and except for a few tears here and there, all went well. Although our two grandchildren are far away this Christmas, my sister’s six were on hand for the festivities, adding energy, joy and adorableness. The college kids were all home, renewing relationships, and the evening was filled with laughter and happiness. Even seeing Nate on an old Christmas Eve video tape was something good, not sad. Overall, there had been nothing to dread.

When we pulled back into the icy driveway at our Michigan cottage well after midnight, the lights of our Charlie Brown Christmas tree glowed from the front window. It was nice to be home. As for Nelson’s grieving percentages, I wasn’t sure any more, because Christmas Eve hadn’t been as difficult as I thought it would be.

“The angel [of the Lord] said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.’ “ (Luke 2:10-11)

Favorite Christmas Gifts

Posted on December 23, 2009 by Margaret

Nate used to talk often about his favorite Christmas gift, received in 1955. His one and only wish as a ten year old was that he get a BB gun from his parents, but he knew it was nigh unto impossible. His folks were not “outdoor people” or hunters. Besides that, his mom was cautious and not big on letting children take risks. Their home was managed with efficiency and order. Nate knew it was a long shot but when asked what he wanted for Christmas, he answered, “A BB gun.”

When he saw the long skinny box under the tree on Christmas morning, he could hardly believe it. Even this year he talked with fondness of the feeling he had when he tore open the gift and saw exactly what he wanted. His impression was a mix of “They really love me a lot!” and “Oh boy, am I going to have fun!”

So how about this Christmas, 2009? It won’t be that much fun. Gift-buying seems out of sync with Nate so recently gone. I used to call him “Big Giver” because of his desire to give us whatever we wanted, and that included BB guns for all four of his sons. None of us are expecting a big gift-unwrapping session this year, but all of us have received an early Christmas present, something that couldn’t be gift-wrapped. Hans and Katy called from England to give us the exciting news that their expected twin babies are one boy and one girl! While God has been weaving together these two little lives, knowledgeable of every detail, we’ve been longing to know more about who they were. Boys? Girls? The information that Katy and Hans will be greeting a son and a daughter is a fresh blessing that’s brought us all great delight.

These two children, along with Linnea and Adam’s baby boy arriving in February, are gifts of life the Lord is bringing to our family to help us move from sadness over Nate’s death, to joy over new life. The timing is not accidental, and I appreciate God’s creativity in helping all of us in such a dramatic way. All of these babies were astonishing surprises, gifts of immense value. Nate’s cancer was a surprise, too, although it was not a gift.

This morning during my prayer time, the Lord reminded me of a blessing I hadn’t directly thanked him for yet. It has everything to do with Nate’s death and was actually hinged upon it. At several points during his adult life, he’d experienced spiritual dry spells, as so many of us have. Those times were frustrating for him and also for me, and I’d prayed passionately that God would open Nate’s heart and mind to fresh understanding of himself and his ways back then.

What occurred to me this morning was how abundantly God had answered my prayers! Nate is with the Lord now and no longer has to “live by faith and not by sight.” He’s living with the Christ he can actually see and talk with. His questions have been or are being answered, not just through the written words of Scripture but by the Lord himself, face to face. No more dry spells, not ever! He has received the fresh understanding I’d prayed for, with benefits beyond measure.

Thinking about that this morning was another early Christmas gift to me. And the Lord reminded me of something else, difficult to absorb but nevertheless true. In order for Nate to have been given the gift of no more spiritual dry spells, the gift of living in the Lord’s presence where a person’s understanding is expanded like never before, he had to go through cancer and then through death’s door. If I look at it this way, his cancer actually was a gift after all. That’s hard to believe, but it turned out to be Nate’s avenue to vibrant, fulfilled living such as none of us has ever known. And this is superior to any gift that could ever be found under a Christmas tree… even a much desired BB gun for a ten year old boy.

“If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me. Yet which I shall choose I cannot tell. I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better.” (Philippians 1:22-23)

Oh, Christmas Tree

Posted on December 22, 2009 by Margaret

In 64 years I’ve never come to December 22 without having had a Christmas tree. Nate and I were married on Thanksgiving weekend, 1969, so Christmas was right on top of us when we returned to our small apartment after a four day honeymoon. He was in law school, and we owned virtually nothing. Our three small rooms were empty except for a card table, two chairs and a Murphy bed that pulled down from a closet.

One day in mid-December I said, “Hey, we just have to get a Christmas tree!” While on our honeymoon in downtown Chicago, we’d each purchased a tree ornament for the other with a plan to add one ornament per person per year until our tree was full. We had only two ornaments in 1969, but by 1979, we figured, we’d have twenty! Meg with ornament 13 Nate with ornament 13

Before we chose a time to go tree shopping, Nate came home from class dragging a surprise up the three flights of stairs to our apartment. Knowing I loved surprises, he knocked on the door and said, “Open up for Santa!” There he stood with a Christmas tree as tall as he was and a smile a mile wide.

When I saw it, I burst into tears, confusing him completely. We’d been married only two weeks and by comparison to today, knew very little about each other. What I’d neglected to tell him in reference to buying a Christmas tree was it had always been a big family affair during my childhood. We never got a tree until all of us were available to go Johnsons by tree 2 hunting together, and we looked at and touched every tree in the white-bulb-lit lot before deciding on our purchase.

Once at home, my family would put the Lennon Sisters Christmas LP on the hi fi, fix hot chocolate and string the lights in preparation for unpacking the ornaments, each one accompanied by a memory to tell. The task was shared in every way, complete with picture-taking. If my dad had arrived dragging a tree through the front door on his way home from work, we’d all have considered it full-on rebellion!

Poor Nate. He had no idea. He did his best to understand as I blubbered out the reason for my tears, and eventually I rallied when he promised forever-after we’d go tree shopping together. For 39 years he kept his promise, even though we had lots of kids who were always growing older making it increasingly difficult to buy the tree as a group. Nate, trees and babies

As for our ornament plan, that first year I chose a fragile blown glass sphere that didn’t even make it to the second Christmas tree in one piece. Nate’s choice was a durable plastic ornament I always called “the stoplight” because of its resemblance. We still have it.

This week Nelson and I wondered whether or not we should get a Christmas tree. Most of his siblings were working in the Chicago area, and we were in Michigan, traveling toward them on the weekends. While we were trying to decide, I said, “I don’t feel much like having a big, well-decorated tree this year, although the lights are comforting.” We weren’t sure what to do, as we aren’t sure about so many things lately.

We decided to compromise by saying “yes” to a Christmas tree but not the kind we’d always had, an eight-to-ten foot evergreen, thick and full all around. We’d choose a smaller model and find it somewhere in the woods ourselves. The process took only a few minutes, and our tree was “cut down” with a pruning snips. The task wasn’t complicated with a trunk the width of a thumb.

Nelson constructed a tiny wooden stand from pieces of kindling, and we clipped on a short string of 25 small bulbs, the thin branches barely able to hold them. As we stood back and surveyed our work, Nelson said, “It’s the Charlie Brown Christmas tree.” Charlie Brown Tree