As the Christmas Season winds down, the question arises what was the best part? The shopping? The hustle? The bustle? The traffic? The September to December Christmas music? The bombardment of commercials, emails, advertisments telling us how much needs to be spent to show our love. The constant casade of candy, cookies, cakes, calories and cholesterol? The rearranging of home and hearth to accomodate lights and decorations to show proclaim the holiday's theme.
Any of these things on your short list of favorites? Most likely not. Yet there is something to be said for: finding an unexpected item that is just what a loved one needs (such was a gift from a son to a father - slippers that are used almost everyday to keep old feet warm); hustling to finish a gift that graces a fridge to remind us of family times and ties; music that first brings thoughts of - Can they really be starting it now, and just as soon ends with thoughts of - Can it be over so soon, I just heard my favorite song once; love shining from every home to proclaim the joy of season and hating to take them down and leaving winter to the darkness.
From these fragments of Christmas pressures comes the best part -
BEING THERE.
On Tuesday morning, December 23rd, I rose from my bed to do my morning exercise, no raquetball today, just pumping the pedals on a stationary bike, for 35 minutes, with lots of sweat and tired legs and will 500 calories be burned so I can eat a Christmas treat. After the work out into the shower. Light head and faint caused me to lay down to recover. After some breakfast in bed, not intentionally but gratefully accepted and a short recovery nap it was time to prepare for work. Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I said it feels fine, I am ready to face the day. Walking to comb my hair waiting for warm water to pour out of the faucet, I suddenly thought - No I don't think I can stand any longer, reversed by tracks and laid down again. Thinking there is nothing wrong, no pain just a little dizzy. Then WHAM it hit, my chest felt as if a sledge hammer had come to visit and stay. A groan, rapid breathing, sweat pouring out, Mary Ann asking what is wrong, "Chest PAINS". She is on the phone - 911. No thoughts of death occur, only thoughts of how to get away from THE PAIN. A quick ride to the ER, a procedure done by trained and skillful hands, a
stent, no make that two, provide an open path for life to flow into a craving heart. My world returns and finds peace and rest and gratitude for loving faces around my bed, comforting words and touch from my Sweetheart and Priesthood exercised by a worthy friend.
From these fragments of a Christmas pressure comes the best part -
BEING HERE.
So the Dr says in the hospital you will stay
until mid-Christmas day.
"Why?" I cry, "I feel fine."
Can't I go home to dine
and be a part of Christmas Eve and Morn?
My heart has been reborn.
She insists and so I sit in a quiet hospital cell.
While my family the reason for the Season does tell.
Soon enough comes Christmas day
And I am home to stay.
Because it is Christmas
And the best part
BEING HERE and THERE