Tuesday, December 24, 2024
Tonight is Christmas Eve, the night we pause to remember when a vulnerable family sought shelter for their birth. This particular family had been traveling to Bethlehem which at that time was part of North East Africa. It was dark that night, close to the longest night of the year and they needed help.
Where am I in this story? Where are you? Can you see yourself?
Imagine opening the door. You can see in her face the beginnings of a contraction. Maybe her hand is on her belly. Will you provide her a safe space? As she drops to her knees in active labor, seeking a comfortable position, will you give her a blanket to rest on? As she moves into transition, will you bring her a simple to help with the nausea? Some electrolytes perhaps? Some warm clear broth? Can you find a damp cloth for her neck or her forehead? Will you tell her how strong she is? How safe she is? Will you help her feel protected and loved? As the baby is released from her body, will you guide it to her chest? Will you keep them both warm? Will you find some snacks for her while the baby explores and begins to feed?
My tree is up and decorated, special thanks to my daughter who is visiting from Ireland and actually added the ornaments. Our stockings are hung by the chimney with care. My son’s stocking is empty since he is deployed. We’ve sent something special and hope it finds his ship. We have dehydrated oranges and tied them with cinnamon sticks. We’ve been to the Christmas markets and the Zoo lights. We’ve listened to lovely music. And yet, I don’t feel ready. I can’t quite find the sense of peace. How are you feeling? If you are like me, it’s okay. It’s hard work creating the magic of Christmas. Trying our best to make it special. Memorable.
Looking back I can only think of a few really memorable holidays. Most of them sort of run together in my mind with whisps of good food, laughter and snuggles. I believe these were the best gifts we’ve ever given or received. My daughter running into my arms at the airport. My son squeezing me extra tight and kissing me before his flight to Spain. The emails. The What’s App messages. Little gifts of love as often as we can give them.
Where will I be tonight? Where will I be in the new year? Opening my arms and providing as much safety and security as I possibly can to all that I can. Working with families, trying to get insurance to cover their needs, working with the Coalition to get support statewide, working with my hospital to provide education and always remembering where I would stand in the manger.
Happy Christmas. I hope you are all safe and supported.
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