Why I love Christmas Night Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, but theres something very special about Christmas night for me. Im sure it reminds me of childhood in specific ways, and it definitely takes me back to some good memories of gifts and family, but I was struck by it this evening. I gave Rica, my Doberman, some much needed exercise tonight. I rode my old cruiser while she ran beside me on her leash. Risky move since weve crashed hard before doing the same thing, but I keep doing it and weve got a rhythm now. Frankly, we both needed it after all the food the last few days, so we rode around my neighborhood... It was so silent. So wonderfully quiet and still. Its cooler right now at night, and everyone still has their Christmas lights up and on for maybe the last night this season. It feels peaceful. Its one of the only truly peaceful moments Ive had this year with three little children and working the crazy hours most of us do leading up to the holiday. It was peaceful, and I was grateful. I do like Christmas morning, and I really like Christmas Eve with its inherent anticipation, but Christmas night has long been the best part of my holiday. I can say with certainty that the best memories I have of Christmas night were between jr. high school and the end of my college years. My parents opened up our home each year to anyone we knew and hosted a party. It was an eclectic gathering of people who had not much in common necessarily except that each year we would celebrate together, eating and drinking and laughing. There were regulars, but it grew over the years and really you never knew what the group would look like. That was the beauty of it. Initially, it was a party for my parents friends, but by high school and certainly college, it was primarily our crew with multiple offshoots of our concentric circles. The one constant through all the manifestations was my grandmother, Jayne Owen Adair. We called her Mimi. Anyone who has heard us play the song Child at one of our shows has heard about some of her many incredible attributes. She was so influential to Joel and me. She was poetic in her grace, and I can still see her vividly. Mimi would come stay with us every year in December and spend the holiday, and on Christmas night she would read the story. This was the central moment of our small annual gathering. Everyone would gather around the living room and find a seat or stand wherever there was room. It wasnt a very big house so there wasnt much room really, but that was the charm. We would just pile in there. There would be fifty to sixty people in that place some years. It was familial in that way with shoulders and knees so close, often touching. We would grab our drink, settle in and ready ourselves for the reading. It was our tradition. Mimi would sit in her chair and choose from the stack of books beside her. She was an actress of sorts so she knew how to use a stage, and she was masterful... raising her hand or tilting her head just so to accentuate the unfolding events. She was mesmerizing as she told the story of birth of the savior. Her movements would bring the pages to life. Some people had never heard it before. For the rest of us, it was as if we were hearing it for the first time. No one would move or speak until she had finished. And when she came to the end, she would pause for a moment before lowering her hand and letting it rest beside her. We would breathe normally again and applaud. It was special and unique. For many of those who would come, it was the only substantive moment of their holiday. For others it was the only moment of peace and love and community. My wife was there the last year we hosted. Mimi had passed on some ten years before. I dont know who read the story for a decade after she died. Im sure my dad did it mostly since he has the same ability to speak comfortably in front of large groups of people. I may have done it once. It was possibly genuine but hardly had the impact of my dad and his mom Im sure. My wife asked why we stopped doing it, and I honestly couldnt recall. Seasons change and new chapters begin. Its nobodys fault. The memories are in tact for me though, and it makes me want to start up something similar with my family. I dont know if I will. I hope I do. I miss it. I miss my grandmother. What I do know is that the spirit of Christmas is in the spirit of giving. I saw that in her and in our small yearly gathering. It meant something to all of us. It feels good to remember things so close to the heart. Giving is the real gift. It is rich indeed. And its the craziest thing to know how true that is and to still struggle with it. How simple and strange. With that, I wish you a very Merry Christmas Scott #GiveLove
Posted on: Fri, 26 Dec 2014 10:41:24 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015