Tidings of Comfort and Joy

I'm listening to Pandora's "Classical Christmas" station and making an unusual Christmas gift list this morning - a list of gifts I will not actually buy, since the people I'm scheming for are in heaven and presumably not even Amazon delivery droids can reach them.

Every year since my dad died in 2001, and now for both my mom and my dad, I've indulged in a glimmer of bittersweet fantasy by making an imaginary Christmas gift list for them. My "What I Wish I Could Give my Mom and Dad This Year" list. This year, since I've pushed myself out of my grief comfort zone by putting up a Christmas tree for the first time since Mom died, I decided to step it up a notch and make a blog list. With pictures! Because hey, maybe someone out there still needs some gift ideas! But mostly, because I don't remember any of the things I imagined giving to them any of those years, and I want to remember. Remembering is all we have.

And while I may be blinking at the computer through water-welled eye lids, this little exercise actually does bring me both Comfort and Joy.

Here are some things I would get my mom this year:

1. A beautiful rich purple Kantha blanket from the awesome Hand and Cloth organization.
Mom loves purple, hand-made anything, and I'm sure she would be all about helping women artisans.

Hand and Cloth blankets are hand stitched in Bangladesh by women who are vulnerable to exploitation. By providing them dignified work, Hand and Cloth offers opportunities for them to earn a living and provide for their children. From the Hand and Cloth website: "As each textile is handmade for Hand & Cloth by a woman, our prayer is that each woman would come to know that she too is handmade by God. "

Perfect. Gift.

2. The Josh Groban CD that came out this year. You can't help who you love, and mom LOVED Josh.



3. The "Against All Grain" Cookbook. I have a feeling it would stress her out to try to cook and bake for me now that I have all these stupid food issues. I'd accessorize it with a stash of the most-used alternative flours (Coconut, Almond, Tapioca, etc). Maybe I'd even do it up cutely like in "Stranger than Fiction"... "I brought you flours."



4. A picture of our little family.

I'll even be nice and give her one where Les and I are actually in focus, and not just the blurry background to an Auggie portrait.

And here are some things I'd get my dad.

Dad is a little harder to shop for. He would insist that he doesn't need anything. Ever. Well, too bad for him. 

1. Bear: Spirit of the Wild 

One of those admittedly rare instances where Instagram was a practical help. I follow National Geographic on IG (If you don't - drop everything and do it now. Incredible photos and stories). Anyway, the moment I saw pictures and posts about this book, I thought "Dad would LOVE that!".

2. Between Heaven and Mirth - Why Joy, Humor, and Laughter Are at the Heart of the Spiritual Life. 

I read Fr. James Martin, SJ's book "The Jesuit Guide to Almost Everything" and I was smitten. He's funny, warm, and Jesus-filled. He's also the "Official Chaplain of the Colbert Nation". I dearly dearly wish I could watch the Colbert Report with my dad. I can almost hear his snort-laugh-cough just thinking about it. Dad loved a good laugh, and despite years of poor health, his irreverent sense of humor rarely wavered. 

* Note: Since this is an imaginary list, I'm going to make it up as though dad's eyes are still strong enough to read a book. Otherwise, yes, I'd be getting this one as an audio book.

3. A recording of my mom singing Christmas hymns.

I wish wish WISH I had this in real life. It would be my most prized possession. But since this is a pretend list, I'll pretend that I have it and I'd make a copy for dad. I remember always looking at his face as mom sang a solo in church - O Holy Night, or a section of The Messiah. The look of pure adoring love and pride is stitched delicately onto my heart. 

4. A donation to World Vision's Clean Water Fund

Hey! I can actually DO this one. I'm on it. 

So that's my imaginary Christmas list. I feel something akin to relief and bliss having typed it up to share. To be honest, I'm always wobbling on that line between "Don't hide your grief all the time" and "Don't be a Debbie Downer". But somehow when the holidays roll around, it feels like there is this little social worm hole that opens up and there are articles and blog posts and facebook statuses that let the cat out of the bag: People are hurting, and grieving, and muddling their way through loss all the time, and at the holidays, sometimes that pain draws sharper and more intense. And let's just come out and say it. Joy and pain mingle bittersweetly. 

But here's the kicker. At Christmas, we remember that God Came Near. And he came to bind up the brokenhearted. And to wipe every tear from their eyes. Sometimes, He sends His people out to do the binding and the wiping, even while we're still feeling a bit broken down ourselves. I'm not actually going to be able to give my parents these presents, but their example of loving their neighbors inspires me to get off my butt and GIVE and LOVE, even when it feels awkward or over-the-top. 

Concocting some Over the Top surprises would have been right up mom and dad's alley.