Christmas is often described as a busy time. Society and those of us living in it have made it busy. As a holiday, a season, and a schedule - Christmas is not simple. But, I argue, it should be. It can be. It once was. Categorically, this is the simplest way to review how my family has survived the countdown.
MIRACLE
My wife and I participated in "The Jesus Prayer", an educational and devotional night at Our Mother of Sorrows church. I enjoyed it immensely. I embraced silent reflection and prayer.
MAYHEM
Directly after "The Jesus Prayer", we picked up our children from my parents' home. I embraced noise and resistance. My oldest daughter has a no socks or shoes policy in the Subaru. It is a misguided policy for all seasons.
MUSIC
During a cleanup of the basement, a Christmas tradition, I stumbled upon my old CD collection. My oldest daughter enjoyed jamming the disks into the Bose and hearing the songs of my yesteryear. Crazy Train was a hit and highly appropriate.
MAYHEM
My mother-in-law has a key to my home. She entered recently to drop off groceries. We were not there. When she saw the kitchen floor, she suspected foul play, possibly a home invasion. Plates and refrigerator magnets were scattered everywhere. She was seconds away from calling 9-1-1 to report a burglary. She called her daughter instead. Her daughter reported that the vandal was our 2-year-old.
MUSIC
Greg and Rebecca Sparks, Pittsburgh residents with a Johnstown connection, were the main act in the Finding Christmas concert. Held in the Our Mother of Sorrows concert hall /gym /lunchroom, my wife and I once again had a few hours of togetherness without our bundles of joy. There was some reflecting and a lot of rocking out to Christmas-inspired tunes. Forever Endeavor, a talented ensemble of local musicians, led the charge and set the stage for the Sparks. It was an inspiring night of music. The Sparks finished with a sing-a-long spectacular that almost brought down the beams in the concert hall /gym /lunchroom / picture day photography studio / church hall for coffee and doughnuts.
Thank you, to all the musicians. It was one more memory in a building that has housed so many memories in my childhood /adulthood /fatherhood.
MIRACLE
On the Sunday before Christmas Eve, our family of four went to 11 o'clock mass. As the lone male representative and driver, I devised a nap time strategy. Leaving church, I instructed my wife and youngest daughter to seek shelter at home. I was going to drive until the oldest daughter fell asleep. My wife listened and I dropped her off. My youngest daughter was too young and innocent to disagree with my demands. My oldest daughter was not given a clear message in regard to this plan. I used parental trickery.
With half of our team unloaded from the car, I fielded questions from my Subaru Scholar. She fell asleep before we got to Richland.
MAYHEM
As I drove aimlessly, I stumbled upon an aim. On a Sunday, December afternoon, I was seated in an empty theater, ill-prepared for a May rainstorm. I did not think the Lake View Visitor Center, a part of the Johnstown Flood National Memorial, would be opened. It sure was. A wonderful, elderly woman told me the next movie started in five minutes.
I ran to the car, grabbed my snoozing child, and took my seat. The rain drops began to echo around me. No other conscious being was in the theater. My immediate Dad thought was a theater would be dark and there would be somewhere to sit. I did not think about the movie title, "Black Friday" and the 30-minutes of devastation I was about to put my counting sheep daughter through.
The movie is intense. It starts and ends in a graveyard. It was much more Halloween than Christmas. There were loud booms, cries for help, crashing trees, and one silent, silly Dad.
MIRACLE
She slept for the entire movie. She never moved. It was amazing. I was a little sweaty when the credits rolled. One, from the 30+ pounds I wore as a vest during the film. Two, from the flood and the thought of my 2-year-old waking up to a horrific Mother Nature.
MIRACLE
When she awoke from her nap, she was excited to be in a museum. I did not have to explain much. She immediately scanned the room and found buttons to push. She survived the flood and was ready to explore. On our drive home, we went through the town of St. Michael's. I saw firetrucks coming toward me - more lights and more sounds. My immediate thought was another tragedy.
But, the trucks were going really slow. And, by golly, there was a man waving from the firetruck rooftop. And, Jiminy Christmas, that man is Santa!?!?
I will share this moment with my daughter for all my days. My daughter and I were in shock and awe. I turned the Subaru around, following that firetruck like a bloodhound. I pulled into the fire station, scooped my elf, and ran toward Santa. As the jolly, fat man was making his way into the station, he heard the footsteps of a running father.
Once we got face-to-face with Santa, neither Dad nor daughter knew what to do. She just kept saying, "THIS IS CRAZY!" She initially did not ask Santa for anything. She just wanted to know why he was on a firetruck and not a sleigh. It was a beautiful, Christmas moment.
Santa told her that she was a good girl and that he would be coming soon. He gave her a Reese's peanut butter cup. Again, more Halloween than Christmas, but she wasn't turning down chocolate.
MAYHEM
Our Dad-daughter day ended with a Sheetz hot dog and that peanut butter cup. I let her sit shotgun in a parked vehicle to enjoy the dog and chocolate. We did a "cheers" to our adventure. I with a Squirt. She with a Little Mermaid juice. She ate the whole dog and wished to give the bun "to the birds". She ate the peanut butter cup, leaving nothing for the birds. It was a lovely lunch.
And then she refused to get back in her car seat. There I was, in a crowded Sheetz parking lot, attempting to lasso a chocolate-faced lunatic. It is the most wonderful time of the year.
I hope this Christmas brings you a lot of miracles. I hope music inspires and you can survive the mayhem.
To put it simply - celebrate with the ones you love.
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