Christmas 2020 has called for different experiences around the globe. Our family did its best to muddle through Covid-19 issues with months of heartsick loss.
Below is a shot of my dad last year with his youngest great-grandbaby, Lily. Oh, the children gave him such joy.
My mother passed away in 2006 from breast cancer. She was only 57 years old. She'd been the family rock... the one who gathered us together each Christmas. Each of us kids would emerge from our respective corners throughout the Greater Houston area to return to our childhood home in Deer Park, Texas every Christmas, and that ended when she died.
With her gone, we were at a loss as to how we should handle Christmas.
I always held Thanksgiving at my house, and wouldn't have minded adding another holiday, but it didn't feel right.
Robin, my sister, came to the rescue. Newly married for less than two years, she took on Mom's tradition at barely 30, with a baby and stepson to add to the fun.
She began holding our family Christmas party at her house. She made each gathering special. We all loved her themed Christmas meals... French, Mexican, Italian, Greek, and so on. She and her husband, Warren, would prepare the main meal, and the rest of us would contribute something as well. The main meal had a history to it, and we nerdy types adore that kind of thing.
This year, however, found our family stuck with challenges, again. Not only were we dealing with Covid-19 like the rest of the world. With all the dreaded potential of this virus, we were now tasked with celebrating Christmas without Dad. He died in March, just as the pinnacle of Covid-19 hysteria and mystery hit us hard.
The day Dad passed, Houston and its surrounding counties shut down.
The streets went bare.
Businesses closed their doors.
Gas stations closed.
Grocery stores closed.
Hospitals overflowed.
People shut themselves indoors.
To mask or not to mask became more than a personal choice.
Even criminals didn't want to take unnecessary chances.
A little store down from our farm surprised us when it shut down with boarded windows and doors, as if to say, "We aren't sure if or when we are going to return."
Everyone knows what happened next. Toilet paper couldn't be found. Many areas, such as our own, had meat shortages. Walmart closing its doors to the public highlighted the profoundness of the circulating fear.
Walmart closed to the public? Things got serious.
In the wee morning hours of the date hovering between the 26th and the 27th of March, when Dad suffered a massive coronary, we received the first warnings to not leave home unless you were "essential personnel." Those grievous words quickly became ingrained into all of us, marking an ugly chapter of enduring panic toward a novel virus.
Those words didn't stop my brother from getting into his vehicle and hitting high speeds around 1am to reach our father who'd already died.
With the streets empty, he had no concern of speed or of getting pulled over. And the hospital in Galveston didn't want to let him inside, but he succinctly explained that he wasn't there to visit anyone, but to be with his father's dead body. That tidbit gave our brother a rare pass to get inside the hospital to do what the rest of us didn't get to do... he got to be with our father who rested in permanence.
In the early days of this virus, even the experts didn't know what to think of Covid-19, and the learning curve brought about steep consequences. Rifts among people eager to use misfortune to attack others or to embrace "you're wrong, but I'm right" mentalities were flung left and right while others were busy mourning, suffering, worrying, and counting pennies.
I can't stand clichés, yet they have staying power for good reason, they sum up circumstances quite efficiently. In the early days of Covid-19, we saw the virus could both unleash and restrain chaos, simultaneously. Weird things happened to society.
Today, less than a year from our initial shutdowns, shutouts, and shut-ins, I can see that hindsight truly is 20/20. We are always wiser when looking back, aided by mindful experiences instead of a hazy unknown laid before us.
No matter where you reside as you read this... I want you to hear me... we did our best to get through the worst. Sometimes our best is inglorious, imperfect, and sometimes messy, but we do what we can to get through it, toilet paper or not.
And this is where we hear the laughter of the Doomsday Preppers. From the start, they were stocked, locked, and loaded as the rest of us contemplated newspaper, leaves, and whatever else might be suitable for civilized cleanliness.
I digress.
This Christmas, my sister had to put her fourteen-year-old daughter, and her own family, first. Completely understandable. The rest of us were doing the same. She had to protect my precious niece, Shaye, from unnecessary risk and shield her from potentially seeing her parents get sick. Avoiding contamination is preferred.
Every good decision gives the Corona Virus fewer chances to catch a new host.
My sister works for a school district in the Greater Houston area as a counselor in administration. She has around 65 schools with counselors to administrate. Covid-19 has seen their district with kids orphaned because both parents caught the virus and succumbed to it.
Healthcare workers are entrenched in the frontlines of this virus, but there are others, like my sister, who must face the day-to-day aftermaths. She must continually confront the repercussions for kids living in this odd day and age.
My sweet sister has repeatedly counseled shredded hearts after this virus impacted the lives of kids who mistakenly believed they were impervious to its touch, so we understood her desire to protect the one child they have at home.
How to handle this Christmas?
We can't do the normal Christmas thing.
We can't do the thing we've been doing to celebrate together, as a family, since Mom died.
Here it is... the time when we most need each other... our first Christmas without Dad, without parents, but we can't risk it.
It's a painful dilemma when we can't share love--in the ways we love--due to our love for each other.
Common sense dictates that we can't be in a house with 20-30 people who are closest to our hearts since proximity equals increased danger.
My sister, the counselor, suggests a solution--a Christmas Eve Zoom party.
And guess what?' Even though many of the "usuals" couldn't join us because they were having their own little get-togethers, we found that our Zoom Christmas Eve was a hit. Our evening was loaded with smiles, laughs, and ribbing.
Of course, my brother made us laugh. Doug can make his sisters crack up in a good way, even during the most challenging of times.
Beyond the Zoom gathering, my own little family, which has grown tremendously in the last seven years, decided to gather at my youngest daughter's home on Christmas day. We've suffered many losses in the last few months yet decided to take calculated risks to be together on this day.
If you've followed this blog for a long time, you know of my daughters, Heather and Stefanie. You've watched them go from kids... teenagers, to college students and to the amazing, strong, young women they are today.
Stefie is a Child-Life Specialist for a children's hospital in Houston, so she understands Covid risks. My oldest daughter, Heather, is a successful businesswoman, but has a biology degree from Texas A&M, so she understands the risks. We all agreed to assume the risks to be together, and testing was involved beforehand.
By the grace of God, our bodies have remained healthy in the last months, but we must also mind our spiritual well-being.
Our family has always taken great strides to see each other often... then this virus altered this joyful aspect of life for untold numbers of families. Separation from loved ones is painful.
I'll be the first to admit... I also love times of solitude. I adore my personal space and privacy, but I also crave times of togetherness with friends and loved ones. When we're together, the restless side of our souls are soothed and our existence balanced.
Picking and choosing what to do and who to see during this time can be a challenge, and your personal risks must be assumed for the right reasons and the right people. You can love certain people, but not be willing to contract a potentially deadly virus or maybe expose them to the same just to enjoy a visit with them. That's the honest truth.
For us, we save our risky moments for those whom we'd lay down our lives while hoping we only end up sharing laughs and great memories, not sickness.
So, here are the pictures from our Christmastime, a much scaled down celebration, but we remained thankful for our Savior and mindful of our Heavenly Father's great sacrifice so that we may have an eternal gift.
If Covid-19 catches me, I'll transfer from an earthly to a Heavenly address where many loved ones are already celebrating together and my place at the dinner table will be ready.
Until the end of here and now, or there and later, I'll do all I can to soak up the love today, whether it comes electronically on Zoom, Facetime, Skype, text, or a call or via a big hug in person to never ever take for granted.
Here's retired Sgt. Dave and I on Christmas Day, getting ready to load up all the presents to haul across Houston to Stefie and Brice's home.
I took particular joy in decorating the Christmas tree this year as Christmas classics played in the background.
I have three painted ornaments left from my mother. She loved folk-art painting, and I loved her work. These ornaments have a specialness to them that cannot be bought.
Maybe I need to paint some similar ornaments?
The picture doesn't do justice to the details of the beard, hat, and rosy cheeks. Simple, yet precious.
Robin is heading our Zoom Christmas Eve gathering and displaying a filter in this particular shot to commemorate the reason for the season changes.
In the middle of my sister's sweet recognition of those who have suffered this past year, my brother is already up to his antics.
How can anyone share a poignant moment with this staring at you? Besides, maybe those to be remembered would rather those left behind share laughs instead of tears.
My brother with his hands up, just before our sister boots him from Zoom. The two of them were being "little sh!ts" as our mother loved to say. My nephew Q-Man is sitting next to his dad... displaying more hair than my brother could imagine.
I was saying through laughter to all the Zoom participants, "You kicked out our brother!?"
The rules of the Christmas Eve Zoom didn't say for us to behave properly. If so, no one in our family would've attended. That's how we roll.
We all got a load of laughs from our time together. Not to worry, my brother made a reappearance. All is well that ends well. My sister put together some ultra fun games for all of us and included prizes! Lottery tickets are in the mail to the winners!
On Christmas Day, we went to my youngest daughter's house. The four munchkins unwrapping gifts are our grandbabies. Like I said, the last few years has seen our family grow exponentially with son-by-laws and grandchildren. Beautiful.
For every person we've lost in our family, I believe we've also been gifted new souls to adore. Nothing and no one can replace a lost loved one, but our hearts are so filled with blessings that we find it very difficult to complain.
Coraline and Lily... daughters of my daughters... cousins... magnets. They call each other "sister."
Little Lily is looking at one of the presents that we gave her, Brice, her daddy, is making sure she sees the dolls, and oh boy, Lily was thrilled. This photo also shows my first child, Heather, and her husband, Henry, with their oldest son, Hank, between them as they laugh hysterically. I love everything about this photo. I love my family.
Leaving Houston that evening to head back to BootCreek brought beautiful sights. Houston's skyline showed off Christmas colors.
We take the exit toward Cleveland and keep going beyond that small town on the other side of Houston to get home. It takes about 2.5 hours to drive the 117 miles home from Stefie's. Well, it doesn't take us NEAR that long.
I savored the lights, lines, and curves as David drove us home, safely.
Let me know what you and your family did this year in the comments.
What did you find difficult or surprisingly refreshing?
How will this Christmas change your future celebrations?
I pray everyone enjoyed Christmastime, no matter the routine, old or new. May the days that come be filled with plentiful toilet paper.
