Every year, people debate whether stores should close on Thanksgiving and Christmas so retail workers can spend time with their families. I don’t feel qualified to weigh in on that issue. I’m just grateful that doctors, nurses, nursing home CNAs, and first responders report for duty, pilots and flight attendants still fly the (often not-so) friendly skies so people can go visit their relatives, and gas station cashiers still clock in for those who need a coffee and quick fill-up before driving to Iowa for Christmas at Aunt Rose’s house. These folks should be Christmas heroes to all of us.
Besides thanking those who get paid to help us on the holidays, I’d also like to express my gratitude to those who willingly and cheerfully volunteer their time to make the holidays a little less sad and lonely for people going through difficult times. Three such individuals are captured in one of my favorite family photographs, featured above.
I took the picture back in 2013, a terrible year for my family. That April, Mother suffered a stroke that left her partially paralyzed and unable even to do simple things like going to the bathroom without assistance. In early June, we learned that my father’s lung cancer had returned; he was dead six weeks later. With Daddy gone and no longer able to help care for Mother, my sister and I were forced to move her permanently into the nursing home. If any silver lining existed for us, the stroke had dulled Mother’s senses, so she was stoic and resigned to her circumstances.
Almost overnight, I was making life-and-death decisions for my once fiercely-independent parents who had always petted and spoiled me. I felt guilty that I could not do more to care for Mother myself, but living over a thousand miles away limited my options. I also wondered whether I handled my father’s cancer treatments properly. He appeared to be in the early stages of dementia and unable to comprehend what was happening to him. I second-guessed myself constantly, wondering if I should have stopped the treatments and requested that hospice simply keep him comfortable until the end. I’ll never know whether I made the right decisions for him.
I wasn’t looking forward to Christmas that year. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, still trying to sort out the details of Daddy’s estate and Mother’s care plan. However, a week before Christmas (my birthday, in fact), the three costumed individuals in the picture came into her nursing home room to give her a goody bag and wish her a merry Christmas. Their festive demeanor instantly made both of us smile. In fact, the man in the elf suit made Mother laugh out loud. It was a good day for her, which made it a happy birthday for me. We appeared to have turned a corner, with better days to look forward to in 2014.
I do not know the people in the photo. I was so out of sorts, I forgot to ask their names. I’m sure they were from a local church or civic group near the nursing home. I wish I could find them and express my gratitude for their kindness. I’m sure they were just as busy as everyone else on the holidays. It would have been easy for them just to focus on their own families and not bother coming to the nursing home to spread cheer. But I’m so glad they did. They will always be my Christmas heroes.
If I were inclined to make New Year’s Resolutions, I would aspire to follow these strangers’ example in 2019 and do one small but significant gesture to lift the spirits of one or two heartbroken individuals. I hope I make the time and effort to do so.
Merry Christmas from the Academic Redneck.
