The picture above is of what I wrote in the Christmas card I sent to my dad, Gerald, and step-mom, Marcia, last year. I think it was the first Christmas card I’d ever sent them in the mail. I’d handed them a Christmas card at family gatherings on Christmas Day, but I’d never sent one in the mail before. I made a point of doing that last year because I thought it would be fitting.
Marcia never missed an opportunity to mail birthday and Christmas cards. I wanted to be more like her, and there’s always something special about getting a personal card or letter in the mail – something that’s not bills or a sales pitch.
You probably can’t read my writing so here it is in laptop form.
Hi Dad & Marcia,
I don’t know if you’ve ever received a Christmas card from me before, but I’m trying to get better at this stuff.
I very much hope you’re staying safe. To be honest, I sometimes worry. I want you guys to be around for a long time to come. Don’t worry. If I’m ever around you before COVID abates, I will wear a mask. The kids & I have really battened down the hatches. If we have to skip Christmas this year, that’s just the way it is. Everyone’s lives and health are the most important thing. We’ll just get it next time. There will be another day.
I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me my whole life. I feel like you’ve had my back. Now I’m trying to be that way for my kids. Sam & Kenzie are doing great, btw. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, please ask. I’d do anything I could to help you out.
Merry Christmas,
Jeff & kids
I sent this card a few days after Marcia had called me and other family members to tell us she and Dad tested positive for COVID. I’m glad I said what I had to say and that I left things on a positive note. Even before the positive test results, we planned on waiting until late January to get together for Christmas. After the news, plans were modified to postpone our annual Christmas gathering to March or April.
You know that saying, “Shit just got real.” COVID took on reality for me when Dad had to be rushed from Allen Memorial Hospital in El Dorado to Via Christi Ascension in Wichita, and Marcia had to be flown by helicopter to a hospital in Kansas City, Missouri.
Everything got all the more real for me when the hospital arranged a brief Facetime chat between Dad and me. I was told in advance that it would have to be brief. When I saw him in the bed hooked up to all those machines to help his oxygen levels and breathing, I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t know if he understood me when I said, “I love you.” I was convinced that this was probably it. He and Marcia were both goners. Friends who’ve experienced it have told me, “You’re not really grown up until you’ve lost both parents.” I was bracing myself for that.
Then things started improving. Dad was breathing on his own. He started going through rehabilitation, then was released to go home. Marcia was taking a little longer to regain health, but things were looking positive. She was going through rehabilitative therapy and looking toward coming home.
It was a Sunday morning, Feb. 14, 2021 when I got the news. Marcia died. It was a blood clot.
Christmas isn’t that much fun anymore with Mom and Stepmom gone. I’ve been divorced for several years. My ex has remarried and had a kid with him. (One of those unexpected later in life pregnancies.) I’ve dated around, but haven’t found The One yet. So there’s no extended family to hang out with and I’m actually lonely.
But it’s not like I’m completely bereft. I have my daughter, Kenzie, here with me. I have a good community of friends who made my holiday season a lot better than it would have otherwise been. I’ve had a lot worse Christmases. I know what a bad Christmas looks like and I’m honestly not having one now. Looking at it from a glass-is-half-full perspective, I’ve had a pretty good holiday.
And later this afternoon, we’re going to visit my dad.
"Thank God, it's Christmas" -- Queen
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