Family

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Christmas Traditions

Christmas around our home has never really been a time of last-minute shopping and rushing around trying to get everything ready for the relatives to arrive. It hasn’t even been making plans to travel to visit other family, at least not for the past eighteen years. Why is this, you might ask? Well, our family consists of the four of us children and our parents. This wasn’t always the case, but in recent years, we’ve learned the importance of traditions and making the times we are able to share together very special.

In my younger years, there was just my older brother, Brett, and me. During those years, we did have family to visit, and the trips we made were always fun and full of memories. However, by 1984, within the course of two years, we lost my mother’s father and my father’s mother. Since my mother lost her mother at nineteen, Grandpa was the only living grandparent left. Mom was an only child, and Dad had a half-brother who was twelve years older. In 1983, just after Grandma passed away, Uncle Bob suffered a stroke which left him permanently disabled and greatly limited his ability to travel. Aunt Norma moved them both down to Florida, and that put even greater distance between us. As a result, we began to focus on our immediate family. We had a new addition that year with the first of my two younger brothers, Brad (the second, Stephen, being born in 1989), and one life replaced another to keep the cycle flowing.

Grandpa came to live with us in 1990, and that helped keep what family we had very close, allowing us to share precious memories that will be treasured for years to come. Too often, families allow the years to pass without talking and sharing their experiences. Older family members have stories locked in their memories that will only continue if they’re told. Children may grow tired of grandparents pinching their cheeks and remarking on how much they’ve grown. They may loathe the days that their extended family comes to visit. However, life holds no guarantees, and there’s no way of knowing how long those family members will be around. It’s important to find the treasure in those moments and listen to the stories they have to tell. They could have truly amazing stories in their pasts, and if no one is there to listen to them, those stories will never be told.

So, that’s what we did. I can’t begin to tell you the number of times I sat with Grandpa in his room and just listened to him tell story after story of experiences he had in his life. One particular story has played itself over in my mind several times since it happened.

"Did you know that your dad being alive today is a miracle?" Grandpa’s voice startled me for a moment.

I turned my head to look at him, but he was still watching the television screen. We were engaging in our favorite pastime, sitting together in his room, watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy, trying to solve the puzzles and answer the questions before the contestants. The wealth of knowledge Grandpa had always amazed me, but it was the stories he told that made those times very special. He was still watching the television, so I decided to prompt him. "Grandpa?" I said, hesitantly.

Finally, he turned his head. "I don’t know if anyone ever told you this, but the Christmas of 1946 is one I’ll never forget, even though two weeks after was the most memorable. When your dad was born in the winter of 1947, he almost didn’t survive. Not only was he born with a double hair-lip cleft pallet, but the hospital where your grandmother went to deliver him was in the middle of a diarrhea epidemic."

"Did dad get that too?" Curious about this new information to a story I’d heard told many times before, I hoped he would share more.

"Yes, and the doctors were telling your grandmother and me that there was nothing they could do. He had already spent several weeks in the hospital, but there was no change. They said they had done everything they could, and it was now in God’s hands." He paused and leaned forward slightly in his chair. "Well, that wasn’t good enough for me. This was my first child, and I wasn’t going to let a little thing like an epidemic take him from me."

Grandpa’s eyes took on a very determined look as he remembered back to that fateful day. I knew that this was not the time to interrupt, so I simply leaned back against the headboard of the bed and nodded.

"Despite the doctor’s protests, I wrapped your dad very tightly in blankets to protect him from the cold outside, took your grandmother to the car, and we left to go home. It wasn’t easy. Because of the diarrhea, we had to keep your dad in the bathtub, and because of his pallet situation, we had to feed him with a syringe. No sooner had we fed him, it would come right back out again. We had to keep him constantly washed and constantly fed. Your grandmother and I did this for hours, fighting against the sleep our tired bodies needed and not really caring about the storm that raged outside. We were fighting a battle of our own, and we were determined to do everything we could to keep your dad alive." He stopped and turned his attention back to the television screen, and I waited for him to continue.

He sighed and turned his head to look at me again. "I don’t know how long we fought for your dad’s life, but I know I’ll never forget that time for as long as I live. Your grandma and I have been so blessed with him in our lives."

"Grandpa, I’m glad you fought to keep dad alive," I began. "If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here, and I would never have gotten the opportunity to know you and realize how wonderful you are. Thank you." I rose from the bed and stepped over to his chair, leaning down and placing a quick kiss on his wrinkled, but soft, cheek. I began to stand back up, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"I’m glad I did, too, because I have my only granddaughter to sit with me and share my stories." He smiled and raised his leather-like hand to my cheek and touched it briefly, then opened his arms, and I willingly embraced him.

Mom called me from the kitchen to help get supper ready, so I stood up again and moved toward the door. Before leaving, though, I turned around, kissed the tips of my fingers, and blew a kiss to Grandpa. He smiled, caught it with his hand, then opened his fingers and placed them against his cheek.

Memories like that one that will always hold a special place in my heart, but memories like that one that also help me see how important it is to keep with traditions and not take my family for granted. We never know how long anyone is going to be with us, and I’m thankful to God that He allowed me to share those special times with Grandpa. If he hadn’t come to live with us, I might never have had the privilege of hearing those stories. I might have only been left with the few memories of visiting Grandpa and the brief time we spent at his home, and I’m very grateful I had the opportunity to get to know him so much better than I did in the years before he came.

That conversation with Grandpa stands out so much to me because just five months later, on the night before our birthday, he passed away. Yes, that’s right. Not only was I the only granddaughter, but I was also born on his birthday, making our bond all the more special. There were times when Grandpa and I would share things with each other that we never told anyone else, times when he would listen, even when no one else would. Christmas that year he died wasn’t easy, and we spent a lot of time remembering him and the good times we had with him in our lives. We talked about the memories and shared the stories we all experienced, helping each other heal from the loss of him in our lives and counting our blessings that he was there to share with us for those two years.

From that moment on, for the next six years, we spent every Christmas talking about the experiences we remembered most, sharing the special Christmas stories and continuing the traditions we’d established years before. Then, Dad’s brother passed away, leaving my family with no one else but ourselves. Again, we struggled with the knowledge that we were the only ones left, finding it difficult to talk and relate to our friends who would regularly go to visit their extended family or have their family over for visits. It really put our family in a very unique position, and with God’s help, we have been able to strengthen our own bond and draw closer together.

The Christmas holidays are a very special time for us, and we do what we can to make them very special for everyone. We don’t have the large family gatherings, or the tables full of endless chatter and children’s antics. We don’t even have gifts overflowing from underneath the tree, but the experiences we’ve shared have taught us the importance of family and the importance of focusing on the true meaning of Christmas. We put Jesus first, where He should be, and thank God for each year He gives us together. We never know when one of us won’t be around, and we certainly haven’t been without our struggles, but knowing God is there for us and knowing that we have each other means more to us than anything else in the world.

I know one thing. I’ll definitely think twice before I take my family for granted.

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