My least favorite Christmas came to mind when I heard the news of Elizabeth Edward’s death. Her long battle with breast cancer ended today, just eighteen days before Christmas. When I heard the news, I immediately felt an ache inside for her children. It will be a hard Christmas for them. My mom’s battle with breast cancer ended 19 years ago and that first Christmas without her was definitely the hardest one for me.
Holidays have never been the same. Several Christmases after the death of a loved one are spent learning how to adjust without that person in the picture. It’s a difficult journey and yet, there comes a time when everyone must go through that process. Death is an unavoidable part of life. I know I will see my mom again and it’s hard to express just how much peace and comfort I have received over the years because of this assurance. The longer I live, I seem to grab hold of this hope with a little firmer grasp. I am so looking forward to that reunion!
Now, on the other end of the spectrum, rewind to three years earlier and find my favorite childhood Christmas. It was the year we had snow. Many of you know that I grew up in southern Arizona about 30 miles from the border of Mexico. Prior to that snowfall, I had never seen significant amounts of snow. The occassional dusting was all we normally ever hoped for. However, in 1988, on Christmas Eve, the snow began to fall in the Arizona desert and far exceeded our expectations. We woke up Christmas morning to six inches of snow!
A White Christmas…my first and only one to date.
It was beautiful.