I'll Be Home for Christmas

"All hearts come home for Christmas"



I'll Be Home for Christmas (Bing Crosby)
http://youtu.be/EYOvd2PZoPU

Today is Christmas Day, and throughout this past Christmas season I have experienced some very tender moments and memories that have been shared by family and friends. I haven't lived in my childhood home for many years. In fact, I haven't been "home for Christmas" for most of my married life, as we have always lived away from our family and "home". Although this has been the case, "home" has always been in my heart at Christmas, and my heart has always been "home" during that time of the year.

This Christmas season one of my uncles passed away. Through the process of this I was in contact with three of my cousins that I shared my childhood with. One of my cousins commented about how much my aunt, the spouse of my uncle who passed way, missed my mother who died in 2001. Another cousin commented on how much she enjoyed my mother's infamous braided bread that she would make to share with friends and family over the Christmas holiday. The sharing of these moments brought a flood of memories to my mind of hand dipped chocolates, a multitude of Christmas cookies and, of course, the braided bread - all of which my mother so generously shared with loved ones. Sweet, tender memories. In reminiscing I could almost smell the scent of the bread baking, or taste the creamy and crunch peanut clusters (my favorite) and raisin clusters. Mother baked cookies by the dozens to share with guests and friends. Many of them ended up stored in containers that sat on our kitchen counter until at least the end of January! These are sweet memories that fill my thoughts of Christmases past.

This morning I awoke early and crept downstairs to sit in peace and quiet before the festivities of the day began. I was feeling homesick and lonesome for my parents, my childhood home and my own children who are far way on this day that is so much about home and family. I turned on the Christmas tree lights. I lit a few candles. I put in the fireplace DVD (since I don't have a real one, I have to improvise). I then sat in the chair in the living room, closed my eyes and reminisced.

I remembered the living room in my parent's home. Gold sculpted carpet, gold furniture (it was the 60's after all), a large picture window facing south. A large stone fireplace with a hearth and mantel that graced the east wall of the living room was always accented with a picture, a figurine or, at Christmas, a candle. On Christmas day a fire was always burning there so we could burn most of the gift wrapping. A large mirror usually hung above the mantel. Sometimes it held lighted Christmas bells, and sometimes it just reflected the warm glow of the lighted Christmas tree, which was usually located in front of the large picture window. Two gold chairs flanked the tree, one a rocker and the other a circular upholstered, cushioned chair. Across the room from the tree would sit a large round wooden table that had been hand crafted by my grandfather, a carpenter by trade. On the top of the table with it's hand tatted table cloth would sit my mother's antiqued gold nativity set. I can remember as a child helping my mother finish the set. I remember sitting and gazing at the set for hours as Christmas music, or just the noise that a family makes, played in the background. This nativity set now graces my own curio cabinet at Christmas. It is a precious family heirloom to me. Memories of days gone by, never to be experienced again. On one of the other walls of the living room, across from the fireplace, sat the piano. It was made of dark wood, a walnut finish. This instrument now also graces the wall of my living room, along with two end tables that once sat in the living room of my childhood home. As I closed my eyes I could picture each room in my childhood home. I could "see" the wall coverings, the carpets and floor coverings, the color of the walls and tile in the bathroom. I could hear the voices, smell the scents and feel the joy and love that was there, especially at this time of year. I remembered aunts and uncles stopping by to visit, and trips to visit grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins on Christmas day. Sadly, my own children have had too few of these experiences in their own life. A sigh, a tear or two, and then I open my eyes and the images fade.

Perhaps it is because I am getting older, but certain experiences and memories have become more precious to me over time. I can never go "home" again for Christmas, but I can bring "home" back into my Christmas each year as I take the time to remember, to cherish and to share my precious childhood memories of Christmases past. This year the Christmas carol, "I'll be Home for Christmas" holds a special place in my heart. I received a gift from my daughter of a book and DVD by David McCullough that tells the story behind this song. I found out that it was originally recorded in 1943 by Bing Crosby, during the height of World War II. It was meant to bring comfort and reassurance to the troops who were serving overseas and away from home. My mother would have been twenty years old when it was popular. I can only imagine how much that song meant to the men and women who lived through those frightening and trying times. What comfort it would have brought to them then. No wonder it was a special carol to my mother, and now it is to me as well. What comfort it has brought to me this year, though it has brought a tear or two as well.

Sometimes I think about my heavenly home. I think that the aching and longing that I feel  at times for the companionship of loved ones long since passed is a type of homesickness. I believe that I once lived in a heavenly home with my heavenly parents and family before I came into mortality. At times I can't help but wonder why it has to be so hard here. Sometimes the challenges and difficulties of this mortal world just seem to be too much for me to take any more and I long to just "go home". I think that this home would be a place where I can experience unconditional love and acceptance. A place of peace, joy and harmony and no more fear, sorrow or pain. At times I think Heavenly Father allows us glimpses of what life in our Heavenly home must be like.  These glimpses come in tender moments in- and sometimes tender memories of  - our earthly homes. I think that in heaven it will be that way all the time, not just occasionally.  I look forward to returning to that home again someday.

At Christmas when I reminisce of loved one long gone, I try to remember that they are "home" for Christmas and what a joy that is for them. Even as I miss them, I like to think that maybe they are missing me a little bit too.  My heart will always be "home for Christmas, if only in my dreams."

Heirlooms (Amy Grant)
http://youtu.be/4E7bc149Xe0