Man, I had high hopes of writing letters around Christmas to reflect on all that it means to me, my favorite things, and end of the year reflections too. But here we are, already two days into the new year.
Jered and I celebrated our Christmas together a week early. Just the two of us. And I was just as anxious for that; the night before I was the little kid telling him it was basically our Christmas Eve because we were opening presents the next day. When I walked into the apartment after work, I instinctively gave a singsong "Merry Christmas!"
I was welcomed into a tidy apartment that was lit with Christmas lights, swimming with the smell of pine, and to the table set and ready for dinner. We snarfed down our chicken chili because we could hardly wait. Then, we snuggled up on the couch and Jered read the Christmas story from Luke and then Matthew, since Luke doesn't mention the wise men.
After turning on some Martina McBride Christmas music, we dived into gift time.
I feel strange opening Christmas presents without hearing the story of the birth of Jesus first. I guess that's because my family always started Christmas morning that way. Every Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, we listen to the familiar story. I suppose that's because my Dad grew up that way. For that, I have my Grandpa George to thank. In addition to hearing the story every Christmas morning at home, we also hear it every year on Christmas night at The Farm.
I was really hoping to have this letter written by, and posted on Christmas Eve because that's Grandpa's birthday, but unfortunately I got caught up in the holiday festivities. So, you get to learn about Grandpa George today instead.
In addition to teaching us early on about the real meaning of Christmas, Grandpa spurred on our imaginations by dressing up as Santa on Christmas Eve. Every year, after the candlelight service, when all of the grandkids were home, in their pajamas, settling in for a game or Christmas movie before bed, sleigh bells outside our homes announced the "early Santa," who would come by each of our houses and give us all one early present.
I'm fairly certain I was the last to figure out who our "early Santa" was. It wasn't until the last year he visited that I recognized a familiar, green sweater sleeve sticking out of the Santa suit.
Something about Grandpa that will always stay with me is his scent. He always smells of some kind of cologne or aftershave, and if you grab a hug right after he gets ready, you carry a little bit of it with you for awhile. He, like Grandma, enjoys his bling, which Jered thinks is awesome. What I think is awesome, is this visor that he's sporting.
Aside from the Christmas memories, my earliest recollections of Grandpa George include watching him chop down a tree in the woods and all of us yelling "timber!" as it fell, taking turns riding on the tractor with him as he pulled the rest of the kids around the yard in a wagon, going sledding or skiing down the big hill and having him haul us back to the top with his snow mobile or four wheeler, learning to play pool, playing at the beach on a big family vacation, lots of skiing trips, playing hide the thimble, riding in the back of his truck, learning card games, hearing "some days you eat the bear, and some days the bear eats you," and seeing him behind one of those big, old video recorders at every event.
We've gone on bunches of vacations with Grandma and Grandpa. We've been to the east coast with them, Wyoming, Canada, Michigan, Branson, and Florida. I remember on one ski trip, Grandpa and Dad took me up on one of the more difficult slopes, and I was terrified. From where we started, it appeared that the mountain just dropped off, the snow wasn't plowed, and I just plain thought I was going to die. But Grandpa and Dad took their time with me, reminding me to make a nice wide "v" with my skis to go slower, and that making wide turns would help me go slower as well. He forced me right out of my comfort zone of zooming down the easy hills as fast as I could and made me try something I didn't think I could do.
Well, I told you how Grandma would have chores for us to do whenever we spent the night. Grandpa had a list right along with it. Usually he would have the boys help him with some outside chores while Grandma had the girls cleaning inside. But sometimes, while he was working, our job was to be "Grandpa's Gopher." The jobs were never too difficult. I remember one time we had to put small rocks around the evergreen trunks. (This also happened to be the time that Drew tried to scare us with a story about wolves down the road and around the corner.)
He has always taught us that we need to work hard for what we want. He and Grandma worked their way up from just about nothing to living as I hope Jered and I can one day. And for all of the work they have taught us to do, they have given back to us more than we could ever ask.
As I mentioned before, Grandpa has always made it a priority to teach us about God. To prepare us for the hardships of life basked in the hope we have in Him. When we were little he promised each of us a dollar if we could recite by memory 2 Corinthians 6:14. (Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what do righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?) If we ever couldn't recite it back to him after getting our dollar, we had to return it. I'm happy to say I never had to do that.
He has always been concerned about our walks with the Lord and does what he can to hold us accountable because he desperately cares about our eternities. He holds strong to his convictions and has spent our lives teaching us to do the same. I will forever be grateful for what he has taught us about the God who created us. I guess that the spiritual foundations he gave us, were really better than any gifts that could have emerged from his Santa bag.
You know the deal, there's so much more, but that's all for now. I love you, Grandpa. Thank you for everything.
Aimee Lou
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