Friday, November 14, 2014

To hear the angels sing

Every year at Christmas Eve dinner, my mother-in-law read us a poem.  I think the tradition started the year after my father-in-law's mother died, but it seems to me in the 11 years that I have known them that it was always just a part of grace. 

The poem (see below for full text) is about how we should not be sad for loved ones that we have lost because they are getting to spend Christmas in heaven and how joyful that must be to celebrate such a holiday in such a special place.  Some years it's more difficult to listen to it depending on what loved one comes to mind as it is read, other years I enjoy hearing and imaging it.

Which brings us to the true reason that I felt I needed to blog, which I haven't done in months.

Christmas songs are playing on the radio.  Snow is falling gently through the air today, not sticking, but giving us a beautiful preview of what is about it come.  The air is cold, but it's not bitter cold and there is little to no wind.  It's a lovely pre-Chicago-winters-suck day.

Bing Crosby began crooning "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" and I felt choked up.  I noticed this with surprise; it was a song that I had heard a million times, and then slowly felt the trickle of a hot tear slip down my face.  My mind was immediately filled with memories of Christmas' past, times that I long for now.  Particularly, Christmases with my Grandma Szwedo.

Grandma Szwedo is my Mom's mom and was one of the best ladies I have ever known.  The Best.  She was quiet when she needed to be, spoke her mind when she needed to, and always had arms open for hugs.  She made some AWESOME pierogi, something that we would all race to get on holidays.  She was a knitter, and made all of us blankets (which I still have in my closet).  She and my Grandpa Szwedo lived in a smaller house in the city, and some holidays seemed a little more cramped than others, but that house was always filled with warmth and comfort.  There were 8 grandchildren in total, but she loved the heck out of all of us and always made us feel special.  Some days I can still see her if I think hard, her permed dark hair, her glasses, her smiles.  And it makes me miss her to pieces.

My Grandma loved holidays and tradition.  Easter consisted of a blessing of the baskets on Saturday afternoon followed by lunch, and a big meal on Easter Sunday.  Christmas Eve was ALWAYS spent at Grandma's house, snuggled in against a mound of waiting presents and always a squabble about who got to sit at the "adult table" that year.  There was laughter and food and lots of talking and food and sharing of times past and food.  The fear of asking if it was time to open presents, and knowing that the response would always be "Now you've added 10 minutes on the waiting time", never stopped at least one of us from begging.  And while the chaos of opening presents proceeded, Grandma would pull up a dining room chair, sit in the back of the room, and smile upon her family and our happiness.

My Grandma passed away in August of 2004 while she was on a trip to Disney with my parents and younger siblings.  It was quick.  It was unexpected.  It was devastating.  It left our family reeling from shock and sadness.  There are still some days that I feel that; I feel that pain and sadness and confusion over how she could really be gone.

I wonder what it would be like if she was still here.  I wonder what she would have said when I had each of my children and what it would have been like to see her hold them for the first time.  I wonder what type of blankets she would have made.  I wonder how and if my family would be different today if she was still aroundI wonder if she would approve of what I have become; if she would be proud. 

I wish that I could see her one more time, a cliche phrase that I know most people say about a loved one.  But I really do.  I feel cheated with her sudden death, that we weren't able to say good-bye.  I wish I could give her one more hug, see her smile one more time, hear her tell me "I love you" once more.

I feel a slight bit of peace in knowing that she is in a place far better from this world.  She is with her husband and her son and countless other friends and family.  I can only imagine what Christmas is like in heaven, and even though I selfishly wish she was hear, I rejoice in thinking that she is celebrating with Jesus.

I'm Spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this Year

I see the countless Christmas trees,
Around the world below.
With tiny lights, like heaven's stars,
Reflecting on the snow.


The sight is so spectacular,
Please wipe away that tear.
For I'm spending Christmas,
With Jesus Christ this year.


I hear the many Christmas songs,
That people hold so dear.
But the sounds of music can't compare,
With the Christmas choir up here.


For I have no words to tell you,
The joy their voices bring.
For it is beyond description,
To hear the angels sing.


I can't tell you of the splendor,
Or the peace here in this place.
Can you just imagine Christmas,
With our Savior, face to face?


I'll ask Him to light your spirit,
As I tell Him of your love.
So then pray one for another,
As I lift you eyes above.


Please let your hearts be joyful,
And let your spirit sing.
For I'm Spending Christmas in Heaven,
And I'm walking with the King.


~Wanda Bencke ~