Merry Christmas from Carl

It's been a very Merry Christmas for the Oliphint family.  Last year seemed haunted with a tremendous void in the family and the absence of Dad in our lives.   While we enjoy a lull in the Christmas Day festivities, I want to capture Christmas Eve while I can recall the details making it an almost sacred day.  It was filled with reminders of Dad and his obvious presence in our lives.   Throughout the holiday, peace overwhelmed us and his memory brought comfort instead of pain.

We awoke on Christmas Eve morning to the smell of wassail and I was reminded of the annual tradition of stuffing cloves into oranges with my brother.  I don't think I ever tasted the goodness of the beverage containing ingredients unfit for a young girl, but a first glance at three clove-filled-oranges stuffed by my daughter brought me back to my childhood.  Also that morning, I enjoyed listening to the same daughter on the piano as sunlight streamed through the window and a portrait of my Dad was prominently displayed before my eyes.  Just through the window, the ice covered trees sparkled like diamonds as the sun was shining on them.  Locals faced the threat of branches falling on their houses, cars and power lines, but I was simply awestruck by the beauty of this glorious, almost magical, sight.  Within a few hours, my brother and 16 of my Dad's friends arrived for lunch wearing ragged clothes and scruffy facial hair having spent the morning at bus stations and homeless shelters passing out envelopes filled with cash and labeled, "Merry Christmas from Carl".  They continued a tradition started by my Dad and honored him with their presence in Mom's home and stories from a frigid morning spent with those suffering in our midst.   Once again, as I spent time with some of Dad's friends, even a man who visited the hospital on the day of my birth, I felt Dad's presence among us.

Christmas Eve ended with a chili dinner and worship at the midnight service.  We attended the church where my brother's family are members and where my Dad attended youth group as a teenager.  I was struck by the history of the church, including generations of family membership.  It was the perfect ending to a day full of joy and peace with all of our loved ones gathered to celebrate the Incarnation of our Lord.  As we closed the service with traditional hymns, I was caught off guard by a repeating lyric in "Joy to the World".  Grateful tears streamed down my face as we sang, "and heaven and earth rejoice" over and over.  This was yet another powerful connection with Dad; he's rejoicing with us in the presence of our Lord and Savior.   While singing Silent Night, we filed into the foyer to hear the Hallelujah Chorus.  I pictured Dad singing along and beaming with pride as his granddaughter and grandsons were in such a spectacular choir.  Yet, I also imagined him knowing the full reality of this magnificent work.

While the title of the blog is weird, to say the least, it really has felt like a very merry Christmas from Carl.  One can only hope to leave this world and be remembered by loved ones in such profoundly tangible ways.  The overwhelming feeling last year was of a gaping hole, but this year I felt his presence in our midst and this was a tremendous blessing.   I hope your family's holiday was full of joy and peace and the richest blessings from Christ our Lord.