Regular readers of my blog know how much this time of year means to me. From the time I was a child to now, the Holidays have held great significance in my life.
Starting with the immeasurable impact of the Birth of Christ on me as a practicing Catholic, and the lead up to Christmas Day through the season of Advent, I’ve always tried to center the Birth of Christ as the core to my life, as well as for that of my family.
Unfortunately, as we all know, the Christmas season through the New Year celebrations have become something entirely different. Probably one of the most glaring differences in the last decade has been the lack of attendance at religious services. NO matter the denomination. Less than half our church was full for Christmas Day Mass. In fact, none of our proximity neighbors attended any service at all. There were fewer and fewer Nativity displays, even in front of houses of worship, my own parish being a prime example, then when I was growing up in Maine. My wife and I always enjoy driving around / through the neighborhoods of the metroplex this time of year, and once again we found less Christmas on display – religious or otherwise – this season from last.
It’s rare to hear, or receive a Christmas card, with the greeting, “Merry Christmas!” The kitchen attorneys of the ACLU have won that battle for all the non-believers. And, the tragedy of it is we allowed it to happen! One of the numerous consequences of only 53% participation rate of registered voters going to the polls, election after election. Local to national.
However, this period has been one of exciting personal joy for me, since the first reading of A Christmas Carol to me on the lap of my maternal great-grandmother; with my hilarious experience of asking my dumbfounded parents (actually disbelieving is the more appropriate adjective!) for one of my grandmother’s rings to get engaged with that following Easter to my wife; the birth of our number two son on the 27th; the annual ground-shaking event of selecting the family Christmas tree (I was always a quick selector of a tree, while my wife and our sons took hours; put it this way, I could always go a get a hamburger, and come back and the discussions were just where they were when I left; tying the tree on to the top of the car; getting the tree straight in the stand (this is where I drove the rest of the family crazy!); to exactly where it would / should go in the house, and, our family’s Sunday night prayers during Advent before supper. I’ve often said that had we sold tickets as a family to any of those aforementioned events we’d still be counting the residuals.
But, this same period of time, over the years, has also been one of defined and embedded sorrow for me, my wife and our family, with first my being in a naval hospital in Subic Bay, Olongapo, Philippines, during Christmas 1967, after sustaining multiple injuries in Vietnam (my wife had had our first son 12 days after my getting to Vietnam the previous July); the deaths of both my parents, and my wife’s mother; the death of my maternal grandmother; being told I had cancer on Christmas Eve seven years ago; and, most recently, the hospitalization of the youngest family member (our eighth grandchild, and fifth grandson) just five weeks old with severe respiratory problems.
Although none of us feel it at the moment of such sorrow, I believe Victor Hugo, “Sorrow is a fruit. God does not make it grow on limbs too weak to bear it.”
Every one of us bears our own personal crosses! This is where a strength of Faith comes in. At least, for me, it always has, and always will.
Over the last 10 days, I have NOT felt like writing / posting at all. I’m just now working my way back.
During Christmas Mass over this past week, as I looked around at those in the pews closest to me, my eyes and attention fell on a couple of people. One was an elderly lady in the row in front of us. She appeared to be in her late eighties, and was very stooped over with her posture. She wore a wedding ring, but was by herself. A widow? Husband sick? In an assisted living facility? She had a severe cough, and her breathing was extremely congested. She sat for most of the Mass, but went to Communion (I walked behind her thinking she might very well fall; she didn’t). There was a story of sadness about her, from all outward appearances. But, she was there! The Birth of Christ was her core as well.
The second person I paid attention to was another lady who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with two small children, somewhere between 5-8 years old, wearing a cancer skull cap, from chemo treatments. All smiles! Where was her husband? The children’s father? Was he deployed in Afghanistan? Was she a single parent? Etc! The chemo treatments had taken its toll on her, but NOT her Faith, or that of her children. Happy and engaged faces! It was obvious, the Birth of Christ was her core to life, and that of her two small girls.
The point of my post is a simple one. While many are filled with the commercial merriment of this time of year, it would be wise to remember that sorrow NEVER takes a holiday. For those troubled with sorrow, our personal kindness can be that beacon of conciliation, consolation and hope, that brings them out of such darkness.
Keep in mind what Thoreau said, “Goodness is the only investment that never fails.”
NEVER shy away from words of kindness: Your daughters looked beautiful in their Christmas sweaters? Do you need any help to your car after Mass? Did you open your packages yet? May I ask where you got your cane? (my personal ‘go to’ favorite, whether female or male, it always engenders conversation…always)
Sorrow always leads to what I call “The Ditch of Resentment.” We’re all capable of driving into that place. And, that’s where and when each of us can and should help one another. We all need to focus on gratitude. Gratitude for being alive. For those around us. Being able to reach out to others. Listening, yes, listening to the words of wisdom and counsel of others. Gratitude comes in all sizes and shapes, we should encourage involvement with the appropriate others, and NOT isolation. Gratitude won’t cancel grief, but it places us on a more manageable path. Engagement with hope, and NOT despair, requires others helping others back.
Allowing the Birth of Christ to be such a point of emphasis is a way to start such joy and happiness…
Lobster on the Prairie 