There are 11 shopping days until Christmas. Usually, that news would come from my children, eager to assure me I still have time to run out and purchase that longed-for item of childhood fancy. This year, however, is different.
This year, my step-daughter calmly informed me that she didn’t need Christmas gifts because all she needs is a family who loves her and she already has that. This year, my son’s greatest desire is to see his father for the holidays. A gift he has already been assured he will receive. This year, we were all reminded that the gift that matters is the one we give all year long: time spent with each other.
This year, my nephew, a marine, is already overseas while his wife and year-old daughter have begun their 18-month-long wait to spend time with him again. This year, another nephew, soaks up the time with his wife and children, knowing his unit ships out in February. And this year, a member of our community lost his fight with cancer and died. For his wife and school-age children, time with him is no longer available.
We live with the illusion that there will always be time to “get to” the important things: the talks over good-night kisses, the reminisces about days past, the shared joke or frustration. Meanwhile, time slips quietly by, fading softly into the shadows until it is gone completely.
So, this year will still include Christmas presents but the shopping includes time spent in snowball fights and enjoying a cup of hot chocolate. This year, there will be more concern with what we say and do than what we get. Our families have already agreed to forgo the usual large gathering and gift exchange. Instead, there will be at least three family gatherings, spread throughout the month and the state so that everyone has a chance to spend time together.
Like most years, there will be presents and food and laughter. There will be pictures to capture the memories, and memories no picture can capture. We will visit old memories and create new ones. We will share comfort and joy. This year, however, the joy is bittersweet.
This year, we know the most precious gift we give will all too soon be gone: time.
