It doesn't feel like it has been seven years since my father died.
Christmas Eve. Seven year prior.
He died about 2 in the morning. I took the call from the nurse. I told my mother that her husband of 52 years was gone. And we drove to the hospital so she could see his body.
My son was 4 years old...and didn't have much clue what was happening. That Christmas Eve I had a grieving mother and a four-year-old who was convinced Santa wouldn't be able to find us at my parents' house. He was partly right, since his gifts were back in Tallahassee - and all the adults around him were falling apart.
We left my mother in the care of my brother and scurried home to Tallahassee. I stayed up all night putting together his toys, wrapping his gifts, and stuffing his stocking. It was so surreal.
I know my Dad didn't want to ruin Christmas. Or maybe he did ;) He never really liked family gatherings all that much. Especially Christmas. He was the guy who would have all the discarded wrapping paper cleaned up and in the garbage by 7:45 AM and then promptly ignore the rest of us with whatever he could find on TV. But that was only in his later years, after decades of drinking had taken away his good heart.
My childhood Christmas' were a different story...he would sing carols, decorate with near recklessness, cleverly hide our presents or pretend he had lost them altogether, and saved his change all year to make sure our faces exploded with smiles when we unwrapped just what we wanted. The Christmas after I graduated from acupuncture school with my doctorate of oriental medicine, he got me a placard for my desk. One side (which would face my clients) read: "Dr. Karen Stump" and the other side, facing me, read: "Dr. Binky". That was his nickname for me, Binky. He said he wanted something on my desk that reminded me how proud he was of me. He had gotten it made at the local flea market. And still to this day it is one of my most favorite gifts of all time.
As much as I hated watching my mother say goodbye to her husband, I hated that first Christmas without my father even more...
And each Christmas Eve I miss him.
So this evening I light a candle for my dad, and for those I love that are far away. Thinking about the family we are born into and the family we choose...and sending big hugs and best wishes for a merry christmas.
