Untitled Post

Ruminations at Christmas

A mother died, and it makes me remember that even at Christmas, there is death…and life. Such a blessing to know that in Jesus Christ, we have the assurance of life everlasting. Death is simply a punctuation mark, a comma, not a period.

Aunt Bernice, the younger sister of my Mother died. As I read the words in the email, so many pictures flitted across the screen of my mind. I could see her as a young girl, singing “Star of the East” with my Uncle Eli. The melodious tones seemed to light the flickering Christmas tree lights in the room. Aunt Bernice was always interested in beautiful things. Mother told me that Aunt Bernice loved to take scraps from the basket and imagine all the things that that scrap could make. She envisioned beauty.

Aunt Bernice had a fairy tale marriage. She looked so pretty and vivacious the day before the wedding. Although we traveled quite a distance then, we looked forward to seeing Aunt Bernice get married. She was esctatically happy with the young groom to be. Her life seemed to be a fairy tale of beauty to me. After her daughter was born, a beautiful blonde child, she soon was expecting again. I remember how sad it was when the baby was born and died. It was as if the beautiful flower known as Bernice died, but she lived. She was hospitalized for a long time. When she was better she had another little boy.

Time passed. The last time I remember visiting Aunt Bernice was when she lived in a nursing home, a fragile flower. After the visit was over, I cried as I drove away. Aunt Bernice, the fairy tale Aunt lay in a nursing home surrounded by pictures of places and people dear to her.

As time passes, I realize that sitting or laying in a room, time has no meaning. For in our minds we can live in the past of beautiful memories, each one is an elegant pearl that we string together. We may smile, we may laugh, we may cry. Others look on us and wonder and pity us. But we are not afraid or uncomfortable for God has given us His love to carry us over the bumps of life. And now Aunt Bernice is with her brothers, her husband, her parents, and my parents in a land that Aunt Bernice knew existed all along. A land with golden streets and gems. A city of love, a city for those who love our Lord. And Aunt Bernice did.