Twelve days until Christmas—our first Christmas without
Woody. I have wondered many times how I would feel, or even manage to muddle
through the holiday season without him. He did all the Christmas shopping
knowing my aversion for shopping of any sort. He was the one who seemed to
always finagle at least one party invitation or organize a Christmas dinner for
his employees at our house. He loved entertaining. He loved any reason to
celebrate, and Christmas embodied everything he loved most—faith, family, and
friends. And yet, here we are less than two weeks from the day that for the
first time in my life I am dreading.
Every Christmas morning for the past 20 years, Woody has
risen before anyone else to prepare the family room for our arrival. The
Christmas tree lights were turned on, Christmas music played, a fire roared in
the fireplace, stockings were stuffed, and eggnog was poured. When all was
ready, he would come to the bottom of the stairs and look up where I waited
with our children and dogs at the top. He would snap our picture, and then
bellow, “Who’s ready to see if Santa came?” The children and dogs would pile
down the stairs full of excitement. He gained so much joy from watching his
family relish the thoughtful little gifts in each stocking, and then he would
hand out the presents one at a time as we sat patiently watching the recipient
open his or her package to see what surprise waited hidden behind red and
silver paper and bows galore. He never wanted to stop and open his packages. We
had to insist that he pause to take a turn. We always came first.
I’m not sure how I will manage Christmas morning. We have
decided to change things up just a bit in order to avoid the emptiness his
absence will leave. Instead of coming home after Christmas Eve service and
fixing our standard dinner for Christmas Eve—seafood bouillabaisse—we will go
out to dinner. Instead of staying in our pajamas all day on Christmas, we will
go see a movie. Anything to shake things up a bit. Anything to numb the pain
for just a moment. I know it will still hurt. I know we will still miss him,
but I have to try something.
Only five more months of first. And then we will have other
milestones to maneuver through, but I think the first Christmas must be the
most difficult. However, God is good. He continues to bring healing. Every day
I laugh a little more. I am beginning to feel alive again. I know we will
survive and find joy and peace just as a hurting world came to know over 2,000
years ago.
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