You may recall that Mommy’s Only Christmas Wish was for Baby to sleep through the night. We had the best intentions to wean Baby from his middle-of-the-night milkfest, but he pre-empted our plans with an ear infection. I have to admit that his defensive strategy is more effective than that of our beloved Believeland Browns.
Despite the lack of sleep and slightly grumpy baby, we had one of the best holiday celebrations that I can remember. This Christmas season touched me in a way that I had always hoped for but never achieved. As a new mother, I felt just a little bit closer to the Virgin Mary as I contemplated the birth we celebrated. I could easily imagine the mixed feelings of distress and joy she must have felt as she gave birth to the Savior of the world in a stable far from home. I also enjoyed the magic of Baby’s first Christmas, which was everything that I hoped it would be.
And in the midst of this celebration, I received a call that should have ruined the festivities.
My grandmother died on Christmas Day.
At any other time, the news would have been a numbing shock, but this felt somehow appropriate. I have no doubts that my grandmother died with love for Christ in her heart because she shared that love daily with the friends and family that surrounded her during her lifetime. It only seems appropriate that she would die on the day that our Savior came into this world to save her.
The news of her passing was also sobering for me as I realized that my last grandparent has died. That generation is gone from our family now, but the next generation has arrived to fill the void that they have left behind. They are gone from this world, but their legacy remains.