Home Alone

This Christmas will be unlike any other.
Clark and I will wake up Christmas morning all by ourselves.  This is just one of the many things I didn't see coming.  It was inevitable, with all four of our adult children spread out all over the planet.  But somehow I didn't realize it would come this soon.  Last year, my two daughters and their families met Clark and me at a cabin in the Hill country of Texas for Christmas, and with four children under four years of age, it was wild and wonderful.  I realized it was a hassle for them, but they did it for me, and I was grateful.  This year is the in-laws turn, and that is only fair, but truth be told, I want them all to myself every year.  We could have gone to Katie's house in Houston for Christmas, but then that would have left Clark's mother all alone, and perhaps my mother as well, so we elected to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day on a "mother tour" as we refer to it, and go out to Texas for an after Christmas/New Year's visit.  It will be great to see them, but it just won't be the same as hearing the giggles and little bursts of excitement you get when the wrapping paper is flying and the stockings are turned upside down.  I mean, that's what Mimi's are for---to sit back and watch and listen to the grandkids on Christmas morning.   
I think that the way we grow up and the traditions we have as children impact us more than we know.  I grew up with my maternal grandparents and six cousins on the same block.  We gathered at my grandparents' home every single Christmas Eve that I can remember.  I couldn't wait for those Christmases, because I absolutely loved being with my cousins and all the activity nine grandchildren would bring to a Christmas gathering.  So, I guess, I figured my kids and my grandkids would do the same.  But 500 miles is not across the street.  And I am going to have to get over thinking that my kids and grandkids will come to our house for Christmas at the same time.  In fact, it's not going to happen any time soon, because it is time for them to begin their own traditions, and have Christmas in their own homes.  I totally understand, but I can always hold out hope that one Christmas they will decide that it would be fun to visit Mimi and Poppy, because they will realize that I have never had all four grandkids home for the holidays.   And they will haul all the gifts and the kids and fight the traffic for 10-12 hours with two kids each in the backseat, or wait in lines at the airport with packages, car seats, and toddlers in tow so that they can spend Christmas at my house. That sounds like a plan, right?  

What Really Matters

Last week my sister, mother and I attended the funeral of our cousin.  His grandmother and my mother's grandfather were sister and brother. It hurts my brain to try to figure out the "once removed or twice removed" part of that.  I just know he was a relative that we were happy to claim.  And I'm about to tell you why.

He was the kind of guy that you felt like you knew all your life even if you had just been introduced to him.  He was a man of his word and a "gentleman's gentleman" according to one of his closest friends.  Bowen Travis was the kind of man who would go out of his way to give you a hand or help you out when you needed it.  He was the kind of guy who met the day every day with a positive outlook and a favor in mind for someone who needed it.  He was the kind of guy who made you feel like you were important and significant after being in his midst.  And he was the kind of guy who had his share of tragedies, but managed to cope and push through and maintain his sincerity and affable personality. 
At the end of the church services for Bowen, the minister suggested that anyone who wanted to could strand up and say what Bowen had meant to them.  We sat in amazement as person after person popped up from the pews to reconstruct an experience or an event that was special to them.  And it was always the same:  his honesty, his loyalty, his encouragement, and his love for people were his steady characteristics.  There was no mention of how much money he made or the type of car he drove, or his political views.  What really mattered to people were the  kinds of things he did because he had such a big heart, and because he was truly devoted to God.  The minister used Bowen's Bible to give the eulogy, and it was falling apart from use.  Bowen was one of those few Christians who actually lived what he knew to be the truth.  
I'm going to give you one example that stuck with me about Bowen's tender heart.
Bowen's wife, Christine, who passed away a few years before Bowen, was very ill toward the end of her life. She loved a particular blouse and wanted to wear it every day.  So, Bowen would wash and iron her blouse after she went to sleep every evening, so that it would be ready for her the next day.  Even in watching his wife of 60 something years slipping away, he found a way to make her smile.  
It makes me wonder if his encouraging spirit was something that he just had, or was it something he purposed to do?   Something to think about at Christmas time........