Reindeer, Squirrels, and Bears

My Mom used to tell us a story at Christmas time about kids all snuggled tight in their beds, waiting for Santa. At some point in our dreams, so she said, we would hear the sound of reindeer on the roof overhead. Having heard that scurrying of feet over us, we would wake up to the most wondrous things.

I am all grown up now and my precious Mom is gone, long now eleven years. It is never the same at Christmas without her. Nothing glows quite as brightly.

I often wonder how the path of my relationship with my mother might have grown or wandered over the years. We certainly had our troubled times. There were moments, days, years, where we were distant. There were moments, days, years, where we were as close as the next ring of the phone.

Kelly was wrapping a present tonight for the baby of one of her closest friends. The gift was lovely; still, the wrapping was something wondrous to behold. As I remarked on how special she had made the presentation of her love to her friend, she reminded me that she had learned from the best. My mom taught Kelly how to wrap presents. There is love and kindness and joy in each twist of the ribbon. There is thought in the placement of the tape. There is delight in the perfect shine of a gift that is wrapped in love. There is joy.

I want to talk to my Mom about the great things – and the tough stuff-- that has gone on in my life this year. I want her to be my cheerleader once again, the one who believed in me; absolutely in an unqualified faith. I can’t. She’s gone. I can only capture her essence as I gaze upon the gifts that she left behind, like the talent my youngest was taught. Wrapping her love in trails of ribbons.

When my Mom lay dying I bought tiny little bears for my sisters. The bears signified that we were “bearing watching Mom die all for the love of Mom”. This year my bear sat proudly under my Christmas tree. My grandson, Ayden, passed over all the brightly wrapped presents under the tree and picked up the bear. Said, “Grandma, I like this.” “What’s his name”? Although Ayden never knew that my Mom was named “Oma” by her grandchildren, he freely accepted that this tattered bear was named, before his time on this earth, “Oma”. He looked at the bear tenderly and called it “Oma”.

I have squirrels in my attic. As I write this message I am not hearing the sound of reindeer on my roof as my Mom promised me long ago. I am hearing the sound of a squirrel doing untold damage above me. Yet I am choosing not to be bothered with the difference.

It occurs to me that we have that choice. We can believe that our life is blessed with reindeer on our roof or with squirrels in our attic. We have a choice. I am choosing to believe in the hope and the promise of wondrous things. And, truth be told, as I write this sentence, the attic has gone quiet.

May you find joy and love this Christmas season; whether it be Reindeer or Squirrels. My wish is that you turn away from this message from me and give a hug to your loved one. There is wonder in your life today. May you experience that wonder all through the coming year.

Love, Brenda