lessons and carols

This one’s been banging around inside my head for a few weeks. Time to get it out.

It’s Christmas 2011, our first Christmas in our new home. We were able to move in back in February, barely missing Christmas 2010 by >this much<. But Christmas 2010 was spent in the rental house, where we were a bit out of sorts and not really sure what to do with ourselves. Last year Aly came home for her Christmas break from Northeastern and was sorely disappointed because we all seemed to be missing a key ingredient – Christmas spirit. But this Christmas is different – we were ready for it, with eager anticipation, joyful hearts, and about 1000 LED Christmas lights.

Last night we followed our something old/something new Christmas Eve tradition. As of 2010, the new part of our tradition is visiting the local fire station to say thank you and to bring them a holiday card and some homemade goodies. There were about 5 firefighters there when we visited, one of whom had been on the second shift at our fire. He immediately recalled the address and the time as I was explaining who we were. From the bottom of our hearts, we thanked them again and wished them a very boring and quiet Christmas Eve.

Parts two and three of our Christmas Eve tradition were the old standbys: Christmas Eve service at Bethany – the once a year when I get to drag my family to church and no one is allowed to gripe about it (well, they are allowed to gripe - first amendment and all - but they still have to go). Bunch o’ Chreasters. I do love the familiar carols and the fellowship. The service was followed by our usual Christmas Eve dinner at Kobe steakhouse where we inevitably run into people we know and enjoy the handiwork of the sushi chefs (and wine stewards) there. Last night was no exception.

This morning came with a chill and some rain, but it was nice waking up in the new house. Jack and I both commented that we had awakened around 4am but were able to fall back to sleep fairly easily. Not a creature was stirring – and silence never sounded so good. Late morning Jack and I went for our four mile walk/jog around town lake while the kids still slept - and then we came home to a few presents and a blissfully lazy day. Cozy and comfortable, in a beautiful new house.

There’s really not a day that goes by that I’m not cognizant of what it has taken to get us here – and of how many people chipped in to make it possible. I don’t think I will ever get used to it – at least I hope I don’t. To be humbled in this way is really the ultimate gift – and I know I am changed forever. It continues to be just shy of too much to bear, which is a good place to be. And though I am getting used to feeling this way, there is still something new to see and feel at every turn. There are still lessons to be learned.

For two years now we have lived with the desire and determination to repay the tidal wave of kindness and generosity that washed over our family. We daydream about winning the lottery and repaying everyone who sent a dime our way, we look for opportunities to make a difference in the lives of the myriad of people who came to our aid. We look for chances to give back.

But we recently faced the realization that an opportunity to truly repay someone would likely come at a high cost. It's been something of an epiphany for me. I have been so focused on trying to find ways to pay back that I just hadn't realized what those opportunities would really mean for the people I was paying back.

One of the families who came to our rescue – Jim and Sharon and their three girls (friends we used to work with who we really only saw once or twice a year after we no longer worked together) – suffered a tragedy when Jim was unexpectedly and tragically lost in an accident just after Thanksgiving. Despite not seeing them all that often, we knew that we would help. Sharon and Jim showed us that this is the way – whether you see your friends once a day or once in a blue moon, you find a way to help. They had shown up with generous gift cards to both Target and Home Depot that had been donated through their church after they shared our story. Both gift cards were incredibly helpful in putting the finishing touches on the new house, and once again we were humbled by the kindness of strangers and what friends were willing to do for us. Of course we gladly will do whatever we can to now help Sharon and the girls. But in my heart I wish more than anything that this opportunity didn’t exist. I understand now that the opportunity to pay someone back means that they will have to suffer a loss, and for Sharon and their girls – and all of Jim’s family and friends - this loss is heartbreaking. Reminders again that life is precious and fleeting and that everything can change in an instant.

And so it’s with this realization that I now move forward, fervently hoping and wishing that I never ever ever get the opportunity to pay any of you back. I really mean it. Of course if you ever need me, I will be right there to help in whatever way I can. But If I never get the chance to pay you back, I’m ok with that.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.