12.20.2010

About this time each year I would get the infamous phone call from my dad and it would go something like this....

Dad: Amber! How's it going?
Me: Good dad. What's up? (I just asked that to be polite--I knew why he was calling)
Dad: So, uh, what do you and Ryan need for Christmas? What do the girls want?

You never asked for cash because that meant you only got $50 or so because he hated giving cash for Christmas. You see, Christmas was my dad's holiday. I don't even think he knew all of our birthdays, but on Christmas, it was like it was our birthday. And I learned at a very young age that Christmas was the time of year that you could pretty much ask for whatever you wanted and it would probably be given to you. Saddles, full size keyboards, ponies. It was magical at the age of 8 and was still magical at the age of 31. Yeah...there wasn't an age limit to when the BIG gifts stopped. The phone call was as much for me (even at 31) as it was for my girls.

Last year was my dad's last Christmas here on Earth. The cancer was taking it's toll around this time and even though my dad tried his hardest to go out shopping, he only made it to a few stores before he had to retire home and rest. I can only imagine how defeated he felt.

Of all the "firsts," this is the one I have been most dreading. I long for the phone call....long to hear his voice...long for something normal.

Thanks be to God for my siblings and step mom with whom I can laugh and cry at memories past and join together to honor what once was our dad's holiday and make it our own.

My dad was always and is more God's than he was ever mine, and this Christmas, he is in heaven, doing whatever it is they do up there. Living it up, I can only imagine.

1 comment:

Christine H. said...

I am praying for you this season.