Mom, Dad, and Ashley

Once again I find myself struck by my family as I prepare to embark on this new journey. Family really is a gift. There are days, of course, when I doubt that as everyone else does, but when it's all said and done, I can only be thankful for my family: Mom, Dad, and Ashley.

This week has been and will continue to be hectic. I'm getting ready for a wedding, for a new life. Of course it will be hectic. But in the midst of the packing and the planning, I feel that some little haven was given to us tonight. After driving up to Dayton with the three of them to drop off some things, we decided to eat at the little country restaurant I worked at through high school. When my former coworkers came out to greet me, one by one, I was so proud to have my family there with me. I told the old friends about the wedding and the upcoming life, and right by my side were Mom, Dad, and Ashley, as usual.

They have always been by my side, even when I've hurt them the most, or when I've pleased them the least. Through all the years of disobedience, and all the words of malice, and all the acts of selfishness, they have been there. When heartache and sorrow have incapacitated me, they have been there. When I've celebrated life's greatest gifts, they have been there. By my side.

And there we were tonight, the four of us. Tucked away in the very back corner of the back dining room at Countryside Cafe, we sat at in a circle at the table. We laughed a lot. And when folks came to greet me and congratulate me, they waited and smiled with me. They were a little sad, I know, but my family still smiled, and they still asked questions about the future, and they still hoped only the best things for Julie and me.

As this week continues to scramble me around until Saturday, I'll remember that time at the table. Once life gets going and starts to roll me through the ups and downs, I'll remember tonight. And as Julie and I start our own life together and think about our family, I'll think my family. I'll remember how wonderful they have been: Mom, Dad, and Ashley.

Life Approacheth

I don't quite know what will come out of this when I'm done, but I wanted to comment on where life is headed.

I've found myself more thankful for family this Christmas than I think I have ever been before--both my family and my wife-to-be's family. Life seems at its best with Dad sitting cross-legged in the living room floor, at the foot of our adorned tree, handing out gifts to us, or maybe watching Mom cut into the ham and working on the vegetables. Then again, watching my soon-to-be nieces, with their cute blond hair and Disney dresses, open their gifts was fun too. But maybe it was enjoying some very nice wine on the back porch of my (again, soon-to-be) father-in-law's house, along with the brothers-in-law (yeah, they're not "official" yet either), talking about life.

No, I think the best part was seeing Julie's face come to life when I gave her a present, and then seeing it sparkle again when she saw how much I liked my present. And it was knowing she was sitting beside me as Dad played Santa and as Stephanie, Emily, and Kimberli whirled in their Princess dresses.

The best thing about this Christmas is that it's actually exciting to be done with it for once, because in less than a week we will be one. And we will begin to build our life. Together.

How fitting; this is the time of the year when I am most nostalgic--I struggle to clutch memories of Christmases past with loved ones who have gone, or the anxiety and anticipation of childhood Christmas Eves. But this year, all I can think about is future with her. I'm nostalgic for the Christmas memories we have not yet lived--the ones I pray we do live.

It really is a wonderful time of year . . .

Winter's Stripes

This morning as I drove across the river back into Rhea County, I happened to look up.

The bridge that spanned the river inclined just enough to elevate me over the horizon's landscape. Driving east I saw the mountain line, which guards Dayton, and the valley below--still frozen from the night.  Hanging overhead of the valley and the mountain was a winter sky, a cosmic drawing.

Running southeast to northwest, clouds striped a perfectly blue sky. At near-perfect intervals, the stripes marked the sky like a football field of blue.  The stratocumulus formations seemed pregnant with snow--gray, robust bellies curved around and up, whitening as the clouds grew taller.  They were heavy. The wind emptied the sky in-between--clear allies for the sun to shine through.    

A Little Poetry

 Given this Advent season, I thought I would share a poem I wrote last year in a creative writing course:

Seasonal Senses

Smell the scent, do you,

of evergreen, of gingerbread?

See the gleam, I do

of colored lights, of silver bells.

Hear the songs, can you,

of carolers, of children's choirs?

Remembering

Nativity.