Memories are a big part of Christmas for me. I have been fortunate enough to have wonderful memories of Christmas and one of my dearest memories takes places in 1988 and in 1990.
1988, my family had moved from Waco, TX to Lowell, AR in order for my dad to help take care of his ailing mom. My Nana was suffering from cancer, the specific type of cancer I cannot remember, and my dad took funds out of his retirement to move us to Lowell, took a crappy job as a salesman for Macintech and then eventually worked at Moore's Tires in Lowell, built an addition onto my Nana and Papaw's house, and we lived there for almost a year. When we first moved there, we spent the fall in Springdale, which is two miles from Lowell, and then we moved into the new addition of my grandparents' house.
Hmm...I forgot about that.
The Christmas of '88 is special to me because it was my last Christmas with my Nana and the last Christmas ever in their house. Cancer would take her life in the early part of '89. My dad and his siblings would move my Papaw into a retirement home, sell their house, and my family would make the move to Longview, TX. The following Christmas in 1990, my Papaw came down to visit us in what would turn out to be our last Christmas together. He too would pass away due to a blood clot in the summer of '91.
Christmas memories often bring joy and sorrow. As I think about those two Christmases, I am englufed with both joy and sorrow. I still have the last gift my Nana gave me, a G.I. Joe Phantom X-19. I still have those fresh memories of her sitting in her rocking chair as my brother and I unwrapped our presents. I still those fresh memories of sitting in my Papaw's lap as we watched Christmas shows. I still have those fresh memories, even though they are more than 20 years old. The memories bring with them both joy and sorrow. The joy of spending time with my grandparents and the sorrow that I did not spend enough time with them.
I do not know my grandparents (both living and deceased) very well. I do not know their favorite colors nor do I know who they were as people. I just know that they love me deeply. Perhaps that is the feeling this season brings. In the midst of Advent there is this desire to know God in more intimate way; to the deeper nature of God.
As Israel wandered in exile, perhaps it is the longing for God's rescue that brings them joy. Perhaps it is in their longing they find the sorrow of joy. The joy that fills one's soul with an immense pain of both happiness and sorrow. One hand you are happy to see the rescue but the pain of what you went through, of the trials you endured remains as a scar. The sorrow of joy is not a mournful or depressing joy; but it is a gentle reminder that joy comes with sorrow.
My memories remind me of this. My memories give me hope. My memories give me faith. My Memories show me I am loved. During this season, my memories are memories of joy.
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