Christmas Memories

The past six weeks have been our most challenging so far since losing Jay in February. Not only for the obvious reasons that it was the holidays, but also because December is a big month in general for our family: Lindsay’s birthday is on the 6^th, our anniversary is on the 11^th and Jay’s birthday is on the 16^th. It was tough to engage in any celebration and cheer under the circumstances. While the weight of our loss pressed down on us we sifted through our Gallagher family archives to find moments of joy and laughter that we could remember to brighten the season a bit. One such memory follows:

Last year, on New Year’s Day, we enjoyed a late afternoon lunch and Cousin Gift Exchange at my older brother’s house about an hour away. We’d scheduled the events of the day to account for the sleep schedule of my younger brother’s daughter. We got started after her naptime and wrapped up before 5 so she could be taken back home and tucked into her crib at the appointed hour. This schedule meant that we too were on the road relatively early, although we had no strict bedtimes looming – just a free night to do whatever we wanted.

As we headed east on 66 we mulled over our options. Should we see a movie? Pop in on some friends? Head to the mall? We struggled to arrive at unanimous agreement. Our potential for an evening of fun was quickly turning into heaps of frustration.  There was never a point in this discussion where two of us agreed on any single idea.

Suddenly, a fresh option appeared up ahead. We’d totally forgotten about a classic NOVA Christmas tradition that was right on our way home. The flickering lights were the perfect reminder and made our decision a cinch -- the Bull Run Festival of Lights would be our last holiday hoorah.

For those of you who live in Northern Virginia, you might be familiar with this annual spectacle. If you haven’t enjoyed it in person, you’ve likely caught glimpses of it along route 66. It’s a holiday light extravaganza erected in a local park that transforms what is ordinarily a dark and spooky drive into a spectacularly bright display of Christmas wonder. With over 40,000 lights, thrilling scenes unfold before your eyes as you drive along the winding road ever so slowly so as not to miss a single brilliant detail. There are Lords that leap over the top of your car, Father Christmas who blows ice blue snowflakes, toy soldiers, snowmen, penguins, Santa and his reindeer, and even the oddly placed but always appreciated scenes of Jack and the Beanstalk and Jumping Fish.

Tim veered off the highway and navigated us toward the park. He paid the ranger and pulled forward ever so slowly to play on our mounting sense of excitement. I took the opportunity before we arrived at the start to tune the radio to 97.1 Wash FM. That’s the station that goes *All Christmas All the Time* every Holiday season. That’s the station you have to listen to while you drive through the light display. It’s the perfect backdrop to the Festival of Lights.

Except…hit the breaks! … this was New Year’s Day.  Wash FM had reverted back to their regular programming of Fresh Hits from the 80s, 90s and Today! and well, those songs do not make an excellent soundtrack for a spectacular Christmas lights display!

Our bright idea started to dim. How fun was this going to be without Christmas music? Was it too late to get a refund? We tried to stream Pandora but couldn’t get a good signal in the middle of the park. So we were all feeling a little disappointed. I attempted to restore everyone’s cheer, We’ll SING Christmas songs!

That didn’t light them up.

Then came a wild realization by one member of our family (who now wishes to remain anonymous). This person did have a Christmas song loaded on their phone!

Really? That’s great! Pull it up! Let’s go!

I couldn’t believe our good fortune!

Which  one is it? Holly Jolly Christmas? Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas? Do They Know It’s Christmas?

Ummm, no…not exactly. The song of choice, the song that had the esteemed distinction of being the only Christmas song downloaded onto this person’s phone was “Santa Tell Me” by the fabulous Ariana Grande.

There was a collective groan in our car. (Finally! Four-fifths of us agreed on something!) This was NOT the song we wanted to hear! But, alas, it was the song we had.

So this is where you may want to engage in some audience participation to get a true sense of how our evening unfolded.  Click here to get the song started in a new tab.  

You got it? OK. Now scroll down as slowly as possible through the following images (Many thanks to NOVA Parks for the memories.)

Santa, tell me, if you're really thEEEEEre...

feeling Christmas all around....

I've been down this road before...

I don't want a new broken heart...

Santa, tell me, if he really cAAAAres...

 don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year. 

So, please, imagine, if you will, that the tour through the Festival of Lights takes approximately 20 minutes. That adorable diddy is 3 minutes 20 seconds long.  That means we could have enjoyed “Santa Tell Me” 6 times over before the end of the display!

As we got rolling, we were in pretty good spirits. We chuckled to ourselves that this was the ONLY Christmas song available to us as it played through the first time. The second time through, we were all still reveling in the hilarity of the situation.

Yep. We’re doing this! We are listening to Ariana Grande on loop as we drive through Bull Run.

By the start of the third time Jay sorta lost it. He begged his dad to shut it off.  Couldn’t we just finish out the rest of the display in silence? But Tim’s a stickler and made the strong case that if you’re going through a Christmas lights display you have to play Christmas music. And since this was the only Christmas song we had, well, then, it would have to continue to play.

This inspired Jay. Obviously, his mission now was clear. Must. Find. Another. Christmas. Song!!!

But Christmas music wasn’t really Jay’s scene. He hated pop music. He didn’t really appreciate the oldies either.  So no Michael Buble, no Perry Como, not even Elvis was loaded on his phone.

As Ariana continued in the background with her desperate pleas to Santa, we threw Jay a bone.

What do you have on your phone, Buddy?  All Classic Rock – Boston, Pink Floyd, Eagles.

Any of those bands have a Christmas song?!

We snorted as we exchanged knowing glances…OF COURSE NOT!

Except, wait… I was struck by a thought –

I think the Eagles DO have a Christmas song, Buddy. It starts off, “Bells will be ringing…” See if you can pull that up!

My recollection was correct. There was an Eagles Christmas song and, miracle of all miracles (at least for a teenage boy), Jay had enough bars on his phone at this point in the journey to find it and stream it. So we bid adieu to Ms. Grande and turned it over to Don Henley and the gang.

With the discontent quieted in the back of the car, Tim and I proceeded through the final display of dancing lights with smiles of Christmas cheer on our faces. We did it.  Another awesome December had come to a close. And this night was one we wouldn’t soon forget. Thanks to Ariana...and The Eagles.

Post Script: As I revisit this moment I’m struck by a thought  -- What a difference a year makes. Could we have ever known the significance of the musical choices of that evening beyond this silly story?

Last year, at this time, that Eagles song lifted our spirits because it offered us a musical option that wasn’t Ariana Grande. This year, though, its lyrics hit hard. The song in question is called, “Please Come Home for Christmas” and its lyrics articulate with incredible accuracy the greatest longing of our hearts this season, and, I suspect, for many seasons to come. Listen here and as you do, please...

Missing Us

I just had an “oh my God, I miss you like crazy” moment. I was talking to Tim. He was heading out to pick up groceries and a couple things I need for my latest organizing project -- this time it’s the laundry room. I had this epiphany that if I just had this one amazing thing, that room will never ever *EVER* be disorganized again. Seriously. I actually believe that. I was describing the life-changing doodad to Tim, in extreme detail, to be sure he would come back with the very item I was thinking of -- not some other thing, which sometimes happens.

So I’m telling him, “It’s a plastic contraption that hangs over the back of a door to keep clothes on hangers. It’s shaped like a triangle, like an isosceles triangle…” 

Giving Thanks

I’ve always felt uncomfortable with the displays that are erected at the scenes of fatal car accidents. I’m sure you’ve seen them. Along the side of the highway. There might be a cross with flowers, notes, and other tokens of love. I don’t really get it. Why memorialize this one horrific moment that robbed you of a loved one? Do you really intend to revisit this place that represents the worst pain and suffering this person ever knew? It appears that people do. Those flowers look fresh. Those stuffed animals, brand new. I’ve always thought, Those poor stuck survivors! This is no way to mourn your loved one! The saddest moment revisited over and over. Who would do that to herself?

Love One Another

A letter to my community, near and far, as we approach Election Day 2016:

Maybe I’m super sensitive but I just can’t stand the ugliness that this election has brought out. It’s not just in the candidates; it’s in us as well. In any political discussion, whether it’s at a block party or a kids sporting event, around the water cooler at the office or even around the dinner table (eek!), there’s an overwhelming sense of Us v. Them, Those Who are Right v. Those Who are Wrong. We are really unforgiving of opposing opinions (and that might be the understatement of the year!). When we find ourselves in the exclusive company of those in “our camp” we get all gloaty and hurl insults about those people who are ruining     this          country!

The Worry List

I want to be completely honest with you because I want you to be completely honest with yourselves:

I never ever thought that I would lose a child to suicide. It was not a possibility...never on my Worry List. And it’s not like I’m a mom who didn’t have a Worry List. I did -- it was extensive. I worried about it all:

The Jay Crew

Just the other day, I was checking on the analytics page for this blog. It provides me with all sorts of info – number of visitors, number of comments, source of traffic, and more. One surprising bit of information jumped off the page and caught my eye. I have a follower! One (1) follower. Oh my goodnesss, how exciting.

Is he man... or Superman?

In honor of Spirit Week, I share this memory with you today:

During Homecoming Week in Jay’s junior year, one Spirit Day theme was Super Heroes. Although he’d never really taken much interest in Spirit Week before, this year, Jay jumped right in with a plan to impersonate Clark Kent. This was just about right for Jay...nothing too over the top or “costume-y.” (Maybe a cop out, right? Like your gorgeous neighbor who sashays into your cul-de-sac’s annual Halloween bash dressed as something really sexy and perfect, while you went all out with green face paint, warts and shredded duds for your ogre costume. Oh, I see how this is going down. Mm-hmmm. Sorry, I digress.)

Thanks for Coming!

For many years when the kids were young, I served as director of a local preschool. It was a small school and while I had a great staff and a loyal army of amazing parent volunteers, I sometimes needed to dedicate additional hours in the school building for special events. For many of these occasions, my children got dragged along were my loyal companions for set up, clean up and everything in between.

When Jay was around 12, the kids and I spent an afternoon all together at the school getting ready for one of the preschool’s signature events, the International Potluck Supper. Jay was especially bored and bugged me to find something for him to do. I wasn’t in a position to entertain him. Consumed with the rush of last minute preparations, I had plenty already to get done myself. “I’m sure you can find something, Buddy.” I encouraged him, “Be creative.”

God's Delight

In this tiny little grief book sent to me by a friend following Jay’s death, I discovered some scripture that helped me so much. The verses were included to offer comfort to me, the bereaved reader:

He reached down from on high

               and took hold of me;

      he drew me out of deep waters.

He rescued me from my powerful enemy,

      from my foes, who were too strong for me.

They confronted me in the day of my disaster,

      but the Lord was my support.

He brought me into a spacious place;

      he rescued me because he delighted in me.

(Psalm 18:16-19)

The book’s author, H. Norman Wright, explains how I can find solace from my sorrow in this passage. He implores me to comprehend the depths of God’s love for me. “Do you hear how God regards you? He not only loves you; he delights in you.”

Smiles, Everyone, Smiles

When we think of Depression, we imagine someone who is sad and withdrawn for a noticeable period of time (more than two weeks, I’ve heard it said.) In Severe Depression, we’re told, symptoms worsen and are more noticeable -- loss of appetite, irregular sleep patterns, failing grades, acting out in the form of argumentative and/or erratic behavior and even alcohol and drug abuse.

But what if someone is engaging and witty, contributes in class, gets to work on time, can be counted on to get things done, and goofs around lightheartedly with friends in his down time? Can he be depressed?

Walking the Mile

I’ve tried desperately to walk in Jay’s shoes, to understand how he got to the point of taking his own life. I feel like if I could put myself in the place of feeling what he felt, that would help make some sense of what, to me, is unimaginable. I keep going over the last months of his life. The time we shared together was positive, joyous, often lighthearted.

Was it not?

Did we miss something?

Jay's Bio

(I know this is long, but please indulge me! My posts won't nearly be this long in the future. This is adapted from my remarks at Jay's funeral with additions from the stories we heard from those who knew him and loved him and took the time to share.)

Way back in 1997, Tim and I received fantastic news: after four years of marriage, we were expecting our first child. In July of that year, we eagerly arrived at our 20-week sonogram looking for 10 fingers and 10 toes, and, if possible, the baby’s gender. “It’s a boy!” we heard, but the technician was hardly excited.  She seemed, in fact, quite concerned.

And the winner is...

First order of business, before I begin blogging in earnest: the title. Now These Remain, modified slightly from its original submission, received from Daniel Eagan, Director of Student Ministries at Riverside Church. 

Daniel remarked that one line in my intro (“all the pieces of my former life remain save for one…”) made him think of 1 Corinthians 13:13.

 “And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love.”

I like the duality of it. It hits on not only what we’ve had to reconcile in the weeks and months since Jay’s death but also what’s sustained us in the wake of this unimaginable loss.  

Now these remain.

Where once we were a family of five, now we are four.

Now these remain.

Faith, Hope and Love are the virtues we’ve learned we must cling to if we are going to have any shot at restoring joy in our lives going forward. 

Incorporating other popular suggestions, the complete title will look like this:

Now These Remain

One family’s journey from broken to beautiful through faith, hope and love

Thanks to everyone who offered input. I see already some potential blog posts in many of your ideas. Thanks for the inspiration. And thanks for your support of our family, for the love you've showered on us and, especially, for always remembering Jay.