Though Halloween is right around the corner, with all my hard work on “The Christmas Beagle“, Christmas is on my mind more than usual for this time of year. In particular, one Christmas memory has been cropping up in my thoughts. It was the perfect Christmas. Almost.
Nothing is ever perfect all at once, and thank God for that. It comes in small doses, and in my opinion, perfection isn’t something for which you should strive, but should take it as it comes, and then remember for as long as you can.
The last Christmas I had with my dad it snowed. It snowed on Christmas Eve, of all things. Everything was perfect–the whole family was together. I had drawn dad’s name for the Christmas gift exchange and as we all knew the unsaid, heart-wrenching truth, that dad would soon be leaving this world, I made him something touching. It was a scrapbook, and each page featured something from each of us–a note, a poem, something that we like about dad. He teared up when he opened it, if I remember correctly.
Santa brought really cool gifts for the kids–a drum set, a doll house–everything was perfect. Except…it wasn’t. I wasn’t with the man I would be marrying. No, Dad never got to meet Steven. But that Christmas Eve snow…the look on Dad’s face when he opened the present I had made for him…the whole family (as I knew it then) gathered together…these perfect memories fill up my heart. They are gifts from the past. And though Steven and Dad never got to meet, one of the greatest joys I have is to be able to tell my husband all about these perfect moments.
It’s okay that two of the most important men in my life never got to meet. When I tell Steven about a “Dad memory”, my face lights up with wistfulness, sometimes silliness and sometimes tears, and to be able to convey that to the person I love more than anything else in this world…is truly magical. And when Steven chuckles when I tell him how Dad would bob his head up and down and rock out to Nirvana and Green Day…? Or when Steven says he feels like he knows Dad just from me talking about my wealth of Dad memories…? Those moments are perfection. They’re gifts all on their own.
What are some of your most cherished holiday memories? Share in the comments below!