Ruminations

Christmas is upon us. Remember that time is a thief, don't waste what you have.

In terms of chronology, we all live in worlds made from slices of time – periods of relative stability as we move through our lives, populated by situations we remember and people we love (and loved).

Lately, I have been subject to waves of nostalgia for certain worlds I have inhabited. It is nothing new, the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays are the bookends of my nostalgic remembrances, getting triggered each year as Thanksgiving kicks off the season.

So, it is no surprise that several of my favorite worlds revolve around this time of year.

I remember my childhood and when I do, it fills my heart with warmth.

Most long-term readers know I grew up poor in rural Mississippi. A large portion of my childhood was spent in an eight hundred square foot house with my industrious parents. We didn’t have much, but my parents always provided me with the necessities and our happiness was never measured by what we had or didn’t have.

I remember going to bed in the winter covered in quilts and with propane open flame heaters running – with pans of water on top of them to keep the humidity up. The moisture of the inside air meeting the cold outside at the interface of the panes of an uninsulated window created all sorts of natural, fractal art on the panes.

I remember watching the stars through frost covered windows as I lay in my bed on Christmas Eve, the frost crystals amplifying the sparkle and making them more than a window to the outside, they became windows to a world of imagination. I remember straining to see Rudolph streaking across the sky and trying to quell the anticipation of Santa’s arrival, hoping against hope I had been good enough to receive the gifts I had wished for all year.

And do you know what?

No matter what gift was under the tree, my wishes always came true.

Then I skip to the Christmases with our own children. Thanks to my parent’s discipline and love of learning and a wonderful wife and mother, we had some great Christmases in far nicer conditions, although the reason for the season was the same.

We had one particularly bad year when the company I worked for failed, I lost my job, and we fell into some desperate financial straits. Thanks to family, the Grace of God, and a new job, we were able to recover to have many more wonderful Christmases with family and friends – and my children never suffered for my mistakes.

No matter how tough it was, our wishes came true.

Having adult children still brought happiness to Christmas, but that happiness is different than when they were still underfoot. It still performed with the same pomp and circumstance of past years but is a more somber, utilitarian holiday.

This year, the excitement is back as we prepare for the first of many Christmases with Penelope Louise, our first grandchild. The extended family will surround her because we are hosting family Christmas at our house in Utah – gathering the entire family from around the country to our hearth and home.

Wishes do still come true.

As I have grown in ticks of the clock, I recall the losses our family has experienced and the changes those losses have brought. Grandparents, parents, and friends are no longer with us. We are diminished by their absence, but we take their places with our children and grandchildren as we move forward in time.

I have come to truly understand how much of a thief time truly is. Once time is gone, it is gone, never to return.

For as each happiness is realized, the number of those remaining opportunities decline. What time allows today is stolen from a finite future.

I guess my personal message to all is to always recognize what a true treasure time with family is. Do not waste it. Do not allow conflict or regret to live in your house. Live and love them like tomorrow is the last – because we do not know the number of our days.

We have the power to make wishes come true.

In all ways, that is our job.