A bit of a realisation hit me today: this is the fifth Christmas since my father passed away. Five years of listening to Christmas at King’s College’s version of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing and God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen without also hearing my father singing along.
Well, at least outside of my own memory, that is.
It’s made for some emotional points. Like last year’s Christmas Eve service at Knox Presbyterian, when the congregation sang Hark! — suddenly, I was 10 years old, listening to my dad belt out his choir-trained voice against that of the stereo’s.
This year is different, though. Father is no longer absent. Now he’s me. Now it’s my turn — nay, my responsibility — to define what Christmas feels like for my children. Give them the memories that will (hopefully) make them one day wistfully think of their parents, when we aren’t able to be together as a family.
Two years ago, it was my first Christmas with my wife. This year it’s the first with my family. Many years of memories to come for us all.
Happy Christmas to all, and to all a happy holiday!
