The picture below is my Dad on one of the many motorhome trips he loved to take. Christmas was
his holiday. He loved everything about it. He loved searching for the perfect gifts for his wife, children and grandchildren. He loved presiding over the turkey during the family meal and leading the family prayer. He loved watching everyone open presents and taking pictures with his camera. And he took great joy in being part of his church choir and being in the Christmas service every year. He loved singing and he loved singing as a celebration of Jesus.
The Spousal Unit and I went to our first Christmas Eve service in about ten years (our previous churches were a biker bar and a mixed martial arts gym so not so much on the traditional) and it was really nice; one of the best services I've ever been to. Still, singing some of the more traditional hymns made me tear up a bit because I kept thinking that if I looked out of the corner of my eye, I might just catch my Dad in his choir robes and singing along, singing his heart out, singing in joy.
Merry Christmas, Dad. I still miss you so much.
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