Christmas.A magical time of the year. For me, it's bittersweet.I live for seeing that magic through the eyes of my boys, but struggle with knowing my father will miss their squeals and smiles on Christmas morning.I can remember the butterflies in my stomach as my sisters and I slept next to each other on Christmas Eve. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes pried open, hoping for a glimpse of Santa with his snowy beard.I never made it.The next morning, we could hear our hearts beating in our ears as we waited in our rooms for Mom and Dad to "go check" if Santa had dropped down our chimney.My favorite memory as a child which holds true today is the smile on my father's face as he watched us open our presents. He would sit with his coffee, and each reaction we had made his day. He got the same enjoyment out of watching his grandchildren.Christmas won't be the same without Dad. I wrote this for him...You held me as a childAnd showed me the worldKnowing one day I would find my own path.Yet, I still rely on your instinctHoping to make you proud and carry on your traditions.As I climb the stairs of lifeI can feel your hand behind meThere to catch me if I fall.Thank you, DadFor your love and understandingFor expecting me to do the right thingOr for understanding when I don't.And for showing me that family relationships don't just happen,You build them.I love you.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Christmas Magic and Memories
Christmas.A magical time of the year. For me, it's bittersweet.I live for seeing that magic through the eyes of my boys, but struggle with knowing my father will miss their squeals and smiles on Christmas morning.I can remember the butterflies in my stomach as my sisters and I slept next to each other on Christmas Eve. I tried my hardest to keep my eyes pried open, hoping for a glimpse of Santa with his snowy beard.I never made it.The next morning, we could hear our hearts beating in our ears as we waited in our rooms for Mom and Dad to "go check" if Santa had dropped down our chimney.My favorite memory as a child which holds true today is the smile on my father's face as he watched us open our presents. He would sit with his coffee, and each reaction we had made his day. He got the same enjoyment out of watching his grandchildren.Christmas won't be the same without Dad. I wrote this for him...You held me as a childAnd showed me the worldKnowing one day I would find my own path.Yet, I still rely on your instinctHoping to make you proud and carry on your traditions.As I climb the stairs of lifeI can feel your hand behind meThere to catch me if I fall.Thank you, DadFor your love and understandingFor expecting me to do the right thingOr for understanding when I don't.And for showing me that family relationships don't just happen,You build them.I love you.
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3 comments:
Deb, I am so sorry that your dad won't be here this Christmas. I can't even imagine how hard that must be. I will be praying for you and your family this Christmas and praying for God's peace to wash over you. You are loved!!
I loved your poem about Dad, Deb. You captured his "Dad Spirit" very well. I am sure he will be watching all of us during the holidays. I hope you know how proud he was of you and the woman you have become. Love, Shel
Deb, I'm sorry about your dad. My grandfather passed away a year ago on the 19th and it made me think of him. Thanks for sharing your poem and helping me to remember some of the good memories with him.
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