It’s a Wonderful Life
This year the holidays have been different. My father went into the hospital on November 18th in Atlanta, GA and he has been there since. For someone like my father who loves this time of the year and all of the traditions, decorations and family gatherings, being isolated in a hospital away from his loved ones has been really difficult.
His medical journey began with a routine procedure but after several complications we were in the treacherous terrain of extreme pain and difficult conversations about life and death.
As challenging as it was to see my dad struggle in this condition, I was fortunate to be able to be there (along with my brother) for him as he has been countless times for me (us).
Our days over the Thanksgiving break were spent with long hospital hours trying to keep his mind strong and positive to combat the intense physical pain he was experiencing.
While at some of his lowest points, there were many signs of positivity from friends and family, mainly consisting of messages and photos of hope, love and encouragement.
Being partially responsible for sharing these messages with my dad was an awesome opportunity to witness the impact he has had on so many and see a real Wonderful Life reception. It was a reminder for him and me on what is important and how this time of year gives us a chance to stop and take note.
To him, I know it didn’t feel Wonderful. However, I know there were times when his mind took him to other places like our holidays growing up and all of the traditions big and small he has always loved so much.
As a kid growing up in Louisville, KY the beginning of the fall and winter holiday season was always marked by defining events small but significant:
One of the first indicators was always a calendar schedule of all the holiday TV shows that was included in the Thursday edition of Louisville’s Courier Journal newspaper. From Christmas Story to Emmet Otter’s Jugband Christmas, my siblings and I looked forward to the arrival of this newspaper every year, planning what shows we would be able to record on blank VHS tapes for repeated future viewings.
One of the second indicators of the season change was the arrival of a long rectangular box at our family’s house around Thanksgiving. Set randomly on our family’s large, covered cement porch, the package signaled the beginning of the season.
And Inside the cardboard box was a more decorative box always full of an assortment of multiple rolls of wrapping paper (ranging from solid color to decorative Christmas patterns), bows and ribbons. This oversized parcel was like a wooden Russian doll of layers of boxes for which the ritual of opening was always a much greater reward than the contents.When it arrived, we knew Christmas was close.
Also around Thanksgiving but always after the actual holiday, was our family’s Christmas Decoration ritual. In the attic at the top of our house, repurposed book boxes from my parents’ book store held a never-ending assortment of knitted Christmas decorations my grandmother never tired of making. And also decorations my parents accumulated of rural Vermont Christmas scenes, Colonial Williamsburg covered in snow and figurines of Dickens’ London as a backdrop for Christmas Carole on a mantle.
These decorations became reminders in every corner of how much my family, and my father in particular, loved this time of year.
This year, my father’s hospital room was far more barren except for a knitted turkey, some decorations my daughters’ made and get-well cards from friends and family. His Thanksgiving meal was ice and a little Diet Pepsi. But even without any of the normal indicators of the holidays, by spending time with my dad, he gave me a stark reminder on the value of life and love. This experience and my father’s medical improvements are holiday gifts I will remember for a long time to come.
From the Auben Family to yours, here is hoping you find your own Wonderful moments in less extreme circumstances.
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