"I'll be home for Christmas!"

About twenty years ago, sitting by myself in an almost empty movie theatre, Christmas music played over the speakers. This was long before commercials blasted away preceding a movie. As I waited for the lights to dim and the previews to start, I could hear the conversation of two elderly ladies seated several rows behind me. I wasn't paying much attention until "I'll be home for Christmas" began playing and one of them said, "oh, this takes me back" and the other replied, "yes, yes! Me too!" Their conversation then went on about how they had been waiting for their brothers, and one for her husband during World War II when this song was written and played at Christmas time. My eyes filled with tears listening to their remembrances and to this day this song brings tears to my eyes.

Being "home" for Christmas is so important to each of us in a different way. Growing up in an Air Force family, "home" to my parents meant Missouri. We would often travel "home" for Christmas to spend time with my grandparents, spending part of the holiday with my mom's family and part with my dad's. In 1967 my father was stationed in Los Alamos, NM. It had already snowed twelve inches by the time we left Los Alamos after school that day and we made it only to Tucumcari, NM that night after hours of treacherous roads, the plan having been to go to Oklahoma City, we were disappointed to make it only this far, but we saw so many vehicles off the road, we felt lucky. The most striking sight I saw on that trip was a semi-truck turned over and all it's oranges spilled onto the side of the road in the snow. It was magical to me as a child of eight to see all that orange scattered across the snow. What should have been a two day trip turned into three, but we made it unscathed and my parents were relieved to be home, and my sisters and I were just excited for Christmas and cousins.

When the economy turned bad last year, Steve and I moved our belongings from our occasional apartment in Salem, OR which his company leased for us while there on business, but had to let go, back to our home in Memphis. We left there in four inches of snow and crept just in front of the worst of the storm across Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, Nebraska, Missouri and into Memphis. We so looked forward to being home for Christmas and arrived two days before our annual Christmas party, relieved to be safe. How grateful we were then to be able to celebrate with our friends and family and enjoy our time with them.

When our church worship leader did a special tribute for families this past Sunday and sang "I'll be home for Christmas," I started down this memory lane that I've shared with you and started thinking about "home" and all the different connotations it has for me. When you spend your childhood moving every few years, you soon realize home is where the heart is, where family abides, where those you love most in the world live. I do not have a childhood home, but I do not see this as a disadvantage. It has made my life better to know that relationships matter more than any material goods, that a house is just a house until you make it a home, and that regardless of the miles that separate us from those we love, our hearts are bound in love and thankfulness for the times we have spent together. My "home" now is where I abide with my husband in love.

I remember well the first Christmas after divorce when "home" felt so scattered, so undefinable, and well, depressing, but there was solace in knowing that regardless of the loss of this one relationship, I still had the love of my children, my family and friends and this is how I pulled myself through the holidays. I encourage you if this is your first Christmas divorced to cling to the other relationships in your life and look to all the love there and make peace with the love that is lost. "Home" is where love resides and if your heart can be filled with love for others, regardless of your divorce, then you will be home for Christmas.

Merry Christmas!
Choose Happiness!