Christmas Presence

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Day 1

On the 1st day of Christmas the 4-year-old and I snagged the last of the $1.49

advent calendars from King Soopers.

She and her siblings–

the 17-year-old too

are counting down ’til Christmas

eating those little, waxy embossed squares of well–

absolutely no temptation there for me.

Day 7

We stood at our traditional, chilled spot of road

 near the almost -never- has- a- line post office

 to watch the bighearted, small town Conifer Christmas Parade.

That evening the 8-year-old was an angel in the Nativity play

and we had a happy 4-year-old lamb crawling

oh so rapidly across the stage to get a peek at the baby Jesus.

Day 9

The 17-year-old and I had a moment.

His eyes opened to real despair.

We labored side by side,

and I observed how boldly

though not fearless,

because it was hard,

he went forth in service

more like a man–

a good man

than a boy.

Day 11

At the middle school band concert

We  listened to the 11-year-old

play “Jingle Bells Christmas Around the World”:

Never a more “I take this job very seriously” and proud clarinet player there be.

Day 13

“Let’s sing Christmas songs!”

Is what the 4-year-old wanted to do as we drove

to pick up the dad from DIA.

I broke into a “Silent Night” serenade.

Nope.

“Hark the Herald Angels Sing?”

No.

Certainly “Away in a Manger.”

No. She would have none of them.

No “church songs.”

So merrily, merrily along our way we did sing

“Frosty,” “Rudolph” and “Jingle Bells”

to her delight and mine.

Day 16, 17, 18

Today or tomorrow or the next day our family will cut a tree from our yard.

I hope it will be strong and sturdy

and not Charlie brown-like as these

fresh mountain trees–

idyllic as they may seem

are often wont to be.

Day 21,22,23

We will wait for the college kids to come home to adorn this tree.

We will make Cardamom bread: the most aromatic in all the world

and paint sugar cookie stars, and bells and trees

with yellow, green, red, blue egg wash,

thick and runny,

and oh so pretty.

Day 24

We will have our Christmas Eve reading of Luke.

 Serious and silly like the kids all 6 will become Mary and Joseph and baby doll Jesus.

Shepherds and angels will sing,

“Joy to the World, the Lord is Come!”

The most important event that changed the world

written in C major

so says my pianist friend.

Day 24.5

Santa will come.

Day 25

It will be Christmas morn!

A celebration, a birthday!

For who?

For us it seems.

I am keenly aware that all the good things of this month,

this spirit of Christmas that I and my family have felt and received

 comes not from Our wrappings,

but truly that babe wrapped in swaddling clothes.

A beginning

 to a life freely given

that will bless my own

 long after the last orange is pulled from the bottom of our stockings,

after the gifts are a little too quickly unwrapped,

 and after the rubble has cleared away into

Day_

s to come.

These kids

they are getting older:

The 21-year-old. The 19-year-old. The 17-year-old.

And not just them:

The 11-year-old. The 8-year-old. The 4-year-old.

The dad and me.

 I am grateful that  we will once again

all be together at this wonderful Christmas time.

DSC06401

Christmas

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Coming Home

I marvel that my children love to come home.

“It’s so good to be home!”

“Yea, we’re home!”

“I just want to go home!”

They all have since the very beginning.

A wondrous thing,

Really.

Astonishing, incredible.

 

In my childhood,

In my youth

In my adulthood

I had thoughts about coming home:

Can someone just turn this car around?–

I want to go back

to wherever I just was.

to whatever I was just doing.

Let my feet take a wrong turn

and go to,

let’s say-

that home.

Over there.

Or there.

Or even there.

 

But

Come home I did.

 

So, what’s up with my kids?

They are not “home bodies.”

They love to be out in the world,

playing, adventuring, exploring.

 

Once in a lifetime

all 8 of us

spent 2 weeks and more than 65 hours in the car together:

eating, laughing, farting, yelling, drinking, vomiting, crying, hitting, smiling, pushing, sleeping,

and did I mention vomiting?

I think it was a glimpse of heaven.

Really, I do.

And Yes

Even then

they were glad to come home.

 

After 71 days of college

the 19 year old just came home for 3 days.

Bounding up the wooden stairs

to the room which wasn’t really his anymore

with its new tenant the 11 year old–

his short, quick stomps

are the sound of his happy feet.

I listen

and think:

He is glad to be home.

It is good to have him come home.

autumn 020Sunrise near our Conifer, CO home