My mom is German, and in keeping with her tradition, we celebrated Christmas on Christmas Eve when I was growing up.
So I made sure to stop by and see mom on Christmas Eve and will see her again today. In a previous visit eariler this week, I described to her the very special Christmas Eve traditions she and dad created for us. She told me she no longer remembers them.
I waited until I reached the car to get emotional - overwhelmed that mom no longer can recall those moments she created which ultimately made Christmas my favorite time of year.
Then, as the week progressed, I began to feel a sense of peace over this latest chapter in her life and mine. My mom's legacy IS the joy that I now carry in my heart during the Christmas season. It's a joy I attempt to bring into my relationships with others every single day. It's a joy I am eager to pass along whether I have known you for years or just met you. While the light in my mom's mind continues to fade, her light shines brightly in me and I find myself eager to share that light with others. There is no limit to this light - giving it away only increases the joy it brings to me.
My dad, too, loved people and relationships. In his last hours of his life, he didn't speak of things he had acquired or accomplishments. He spoke of intentionally and passionately loving his family and friends and seeking to create memories with them. Which he did successfully. I still remember his wonderful smile even as COVID ravaged his body and his words: "I have had a good life."
Following a dinner of mostaccioli and ham, Dad would take my sister and me in his car on Christmas Eve to look for Rudolph. Inevitably, we'd spot a red light in the sky and race back to the house. Rudolph and Santa would always beat us there. The lights in the living room would be out and the room would only be illuminated by the lights on the Christmas tree. An album called "Christmas In Germany" would be playing on the stereo. Excitedly, we'd unwrap and enjoy the presents. The world outside was quiet and the only thing that existed in those moments was the joy of Christmas - created intentionally by two parents who loved each other and their kids.
Today, exhausted parents will blissfully watch the souls of their kids light up as a new generation experiences the joy of Christmas. But the true gift of those parents won't be in that moment - the gift will be the spark of joy they create in their kids that eventually becomes a fire in their hearts from which they illuminate the world around them. Dad has passed on and mom doesn't remember - but the gifts they gave live on in my sister and me and the next generation of our family. And the generation after that.
My friends love to joke with me about my year-round love of Christmas. I tell them that the spirit of Christmas lives in my heart year-round. I say it with a laugh - but it is actually true. My parents intentionally created that feeling and, in doing so, created two kids who non-judgmentally love people, experiences, and laughter and experience happiness because of that love. My parents set up us for lives in which joy eventually triumphs over any challenge or heartbreak. THAT has turned out to be the gift "that keeps on giving."