When I think of the warmth of Christmas, without hesitation, the first person that comes to my mind is my Aunt Mary. For the last 27 years of my life, she has made Christmas, what it is. As soon as Thanksgiving is over, Aunt Mary begins to turn her home into the winter wonderland of everyone’s dreams. With the perfect Christmas tree, the exchange of the most beautiful Christmas dishes, and the little snow baby figurines that line the shelves in the living room, her home transforms into the coziest place anyone would want to be for the holiday’s. In addition to the cozinessnes of her home, the tradition of hosting Christmas Eve has always been something that Aunt Mary has held close to her heart.
As I ponder over the Christmas seasons in which we have spent at Aunt Mary’s home, 2016 specifically stands out to me. If you were to walk into Aunt Mary’s home that evening you would have seen my cousin and me in matching flannel pajamas, you would have heard the loud and continual laughter of a little one, just a smidge over a year old, and smell the yummy home-cooked dishes coming out of the oven. You would most likely also have heard all of my Dad’s siblings lovingly yelling at everyone to quickly sit down at the table so the food could stay, “HOT!” And yet despite all of our best efforts, someone would still get up to microwave their dinner because it wasn’t up to their heat standards.
After we ate we all moved into the front room and began to open up gifts. Sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree, I remember looking around the room that evening, taking it all in. The laughter, the joy, the, “Lenord, I forgot a gift at home can you run and get it.” It was chaos, but it was my chaos. One vivid memory that I have in my mind from that night is one of my Uncle Chuck sitting on the couch next to the window, watching his firstborn grandson, Lathan, experience Christmas for the first time. Uncle Chuck, who is Aunt Mary’s husband, was someone who I always thought was a bit more serious than the rest of the family. Growing up, I remember him being more stern, which made me feel a bit more distant from him. However, as I grew up, I realized that his serious facial expressions were just a cover to the soft and loving man in which he was.
Uncle Chuck and I had lots of long and wonderful conversations over the years in which he always shared perspectives and advice on things in which I would have never thought about. That evening, I saw nothing but joy from him. He had the biggest smile as he saw Lathan open up his gifts, with a loud description of each item unwrapped, and hollering with joy as if each gift was something special and rare. Uncle Chuck’s laughter that evening filled the room and it felt as if I had never seen him so joyful as he was that night.
If you would have asked me that Christmas Eve if that was my favorite Christmas memory, I probably would have told you no. But what has made that night so much more memorable is that in early 2017, Uncle Chuck suddenly passed away. The memory of our family chaos that night and the sound of Uncle Chuck’s contagious laughter has felt as if it froze in time and now I can’t help but to continue to play it over and over in my mind each Christmas. A moment of which we thought there would be many, turned into a memory of one which I cherish so dearly.
As we enter into a season where joyful memories may become grieving realities, I find peace in knowing that my pain is heard and understood. I stand in awe that in a time with such pain for not only myself, but for many others, we have the opportunity to celebrate the Prince of Peace who entered into this world to bring peace. Even though years may go, traditions may change, and family members may pass, the consistency of Jesus’ peace on earth will always stay the same.
Elizabeth McDonald is the children and family pastor at the La Sierra University Church and loves finding new coffee places around Southern California.