Though Christmas was last week, we’re in the van heading to see our favorite light display. It’s tradition for this week in between the holidays.
Christmas carols stream from our speakers. Five sons are pressed tight in the back two seats. The mood is cheery and light. We drive for 30 minutes.
But before we go to the light display, we detour.
Lonny drives through a residential area. As we near our destination, the van grows quiet. We ebb along until we pull up in front red brick house.
My grandparents are in heaven now. But when they were with us, this was their home.
Lonny stops the engine, and I sit still. The boys in the back are still, too. They know that this part of the journey is also tradition.
Mamo and Papo’s house is decorated with white lights. There’s a tree in the window, just where theirs used to be. For a second I want to leave the car. Walk up the steps. Put my hand on the doorknob and walk right in.
I dream that Mamo would come around the corner. “Daddy, it’s Shawnie.”
Papo would come from the living room. They’d wrap their arms around me while I’m still wearing my coat. “Shawnie-babe,” he’d say. “You come on in.”
The scene would be familiar. Chimes, for the doorbell, hanging in the hall. Marble fireplace, warm and glowing, in the living room. A chair for Mamo and one for Papo, but also a long sofa pulled close.
We’d chat while we move to sit down, and Papo’s eyes would sparkle blue. Mamo’s green eyes would shine a lifetime of love. She’d place her soft hands on face and cup my chin. “Darlin,” she’d say. “We’re glad you’re here.”
Lonny lets me sit, and then he offers his hand. “You okay?” he asks.
I don’t answer because I’m filled with so much missing that I wonder if I can speak. But after a minute, a small voice interrupts my grief.
“It’s so pretty, Mama,” a son says. “Shining with all the lights.”
I look at the house all decorated for Christmas.
Christmas.
Yes, Christmas.
It’s the season of hope. Of joy. Of expectation. It’s also the season of security. The Lord sent the love-gift of His Son, and by receiving this gift, eternity is a certain thing.
I let this truth run deep. Because of the Jesus, my grandparents are with the Lord. Because of Jesus, I will be there one day, too.
Christmas means reunion.
We will one day be reunited with those we’ve cherished and loved.
Lonny squeezes my hand and there’s chatter from the back seat. It’s time. Time to move on. Time to move forward. I look at the red brick home one more time, but now I’m okay.
Oh Lord, because of Your grace, I’ll see Mamo and Papo again.
And as we pull away I’m smiling because I know just what Mamo and Papo will say.
“Shawnie-babe, we’ve missed you. Now you just come right in.”
