by | Dec 14, 2020

December is a month of hope…one of miracles. Beyond the gifts, delicious food, and gatherings… It’s also a time to reflect on loved ones we’ve lost and gratitude for the incredible people we have in our lives. We usually do this in moments of quiet. I personally like to curl up next to a twinkling Christmas tree and meditate on the influence of those who have impacted my journey. I think about my Pappaw’s humor and his positive attitude even when he was in pain and near death. I meditate on my Granny’s love of service and her non-stop striving to be a strong Christian woman. A smile creeps across my face when I think of the fire in my Grandma Rita, and of course a little fear too. (Trust me, you wouldn’t want to tangle with that woman). Since I was a child I’ve wondered, can they still see us? Do they watch from above?

Years ago, I finally got the answer to my question. It was a rainy day in Seattle. I’d been a little down and was feeling sentimental. I was missing the unconditional love of my grandparents and my Pappaw popped into my mind. The memory of his twinkling eyes and infectious laugh…even in the worst of times..sent a jolt into my system. I had to snap out of my melancholy and focus on the many blessings past and present in my life. As I was walking, the rain started pouring. It plastered my hair to my head, trickled down my cheeks and mixed with my tears. Those tear/raindrops slid down my face pulling my mascara down from my eyes and finally landing in my mouth. From the window reflection I saw the face of a newly minted KISS member. The taste of hairspray, the reflection of my face, and the cold wetness of my clothes suddenly became quite funny to me. I started talking to Pappaw out loud. I wondered if he could see his brilliant granddaughter with no umbrella while she hosted her own pity party. And if he did, send me a sign. At that very second…I looked up from the drenched sidewalk to a small house off to my left. Nailed on the front of the house were tiny homemade chairs. They looked crazily similar to the chairs my grandfather whittled for each one of his grandchildren. I’d never seen any other chairs like his…especially nailed to the front of a house. I stopped in awe…snapped a picture to confirm my story and looked up to the heavens. “Thank you Pappaw!” Thanks for still sharing your humor with me and letting me know I’m never alone. I have God, you, Granny and the whole crew watching over me. Right then, the rain stopped, a cloud moved and sun brightened the sky. The dark moments had past and a new moment had arrive. I smiled, kicked a puddle and jumped in a few walking back to my hotel.

Pappaw’s chair

So, when you think about the special person in your life that’s made their way to heaven.  Know, they are still here in some form or another.  They are watching over you, guiding you, cheering for you and hugging you…And if you look closely enough…you might even see the essence of them in your every day life….just like my chairs.

Merry Christmas!  Don’t forget to Kari The Light for someone…like my Pappaw did for me.  A lot of people may be lonely this season…please reach out and let them know you are thinking of them and Hope Springs Eternal….Christ is born!!!  

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