Blue Christmas

“I’ll have a blue Christmas without you
I’ll be so blue just thinking about you”

It was 2004, the year I experienced my first blue Christmas. I suppose I should feel fortunate that I was spared for so long. After all, millions of people have the Christmas blues, but generally they suffer in silence. It’s hard to notice them, what with all the sparkling lights and glitter in your eyes. My youngest son, Christopher, was a Marine at the time, and that summer, he was shipped off to war. He and his unit (2/24 Marine Reservists) were somewhere in Iraq; we weren’t allowed to know just where. But the nickname of the area where he fought, “Triangle of Death,” told us enough, and more than we wanted to know. Communication from him in those days, was spotty at best. When the holidays came that year, we knew he wasn’t coming home. I recall driving home from work and hearing on the radio, “Another Marine was killed near Fallujah today,” and wondering if it was him.

Thanksgiving came and went, and then Christmas. One day, we received a package in the mail from overseas. It was a DVD of his unit, with photos and accompanying music, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” But “Blue Christmas,” was all I heard. As his mother, older brother, and I sat around the fire, just the three of us, the music played and the lights sparkled on the tree, but we all had holes in our hearts, and the tears flowed freely. For 21 years our son had been a part of our small family and the celebration that comes around each year. But not this one. I now knew what it meant to have a heavy heart. With much prayer we got through it, and early the next year, our youngest son made it home, and he’s been with us every Christmas since. What a celebration it was when he returned home, and especially the following Thanksgiving and Christmas.

As this Christmas approaches, I find myself with a heavy heart once again. Three years ago, our oldest son died, and it’s tough when this time of year rolls around. Ron especially loved Thanksgiving and Christmas, and was always a bright spot in the celebration, and so his absence leaves a huge hole. He was the one who sat near the tree on Christmas morning and handed out everyone’s gifts, and seeing the look on his face as the presents were opened, you knew that he enjoyed each gift as much as the recipients. I recall one Christmas when he and his brother received a good chunk of money in their stockings, he was so excited he fell off the couch, overcome with joy. He loved giving gifts as much as receiving them and his gifts were usually something that came from his heart, a painting to my wife and me, or a mix of music he’d burned on a CD, created with love, just for me. I miss him, especially at Christmas. I see all of the lights and hear all of the music, but it’s hard for me to smile. Unlike his brother, Ron isn’t coming home.

Yet, in the midst of my blue Christmas, I still feel a joy inexpressible. “But Ron,” you might say, “how can you experience joy in the midst of deep sorrow?” Linus Van Pelt said it best, quoting from Luke chapter two in A Charlie Brown Christmas:  “In the same region there were some shepherds staying out in the fields and keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord suddenly stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them; and they were terribly frightened. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.'”

It was this Jesus, who died for you and me, who promised, “In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.” (John 13:2) Jesus has gone ahead of us and prepares for us a new home. And although Ron will never again return to his earthly home, he too, has gone ahead to his heavenly one. And one day, I will join him there, and together we will worship forever the King of kings, Lord of lords, the Lamb who was worthy to be slain.

“Joy to the world, the Lord is come
Let Earth receive her King”

Joy to the world, indeed.

If you enjoyed this piece, you might also enjoy my book, Pondering God.