"Come on weather man give us a forecast snowy white
Can't you hear the prayer of every childlike heart tonight?
Rockies are calling, Denver snow's falling .
Somebody says it's four feet deep.
It doesn't matter, give me the laughter
I'm gonna choose to keep...."
... John Denver's warmth filtered through my car interior as I navigated the downtown streets, laden with cars on either side and heavy with people milling about window shopping, making court appearances, and traversing from the loft aparentments to campus.
"Another tender Tennessee Christmas
It's the only Christmas for me
Where the love circles around us
like the gifts under our tree
Well I know there's more snow
Up in Colorado than my roof will ever see
but a tender Tennessee Christmas is the only Christmas for me."
... Beautiful and powerful, these lines undid time and space, reminding me of my own tender Christmases with my foster family in Tennessee. Tears streamed down my face as I let the moment consume me. If I am honest with myself, I'm homesick most of the time, but I don't often let myself feel it. The light would be changing soon, I remind myself as I swipe at the remaining evidence on my face. Roll on....
The song still played as I pulled into a parking space, but the power of its words no longer stung so much. I had purged the emotions for the time being. But as I sit here, with my back pressed against a dirty concrete wall, waiting for my class, I wander aimlessly through my mind....
What makes Christmas at home so special? And what makes me miss my foster parents and foster siblings so much that a John Denver song reduces me to tears? They play it every year, but I don't ever cry when I hear it. I usually sing along. Why is that different this year?
It's been a difficult year with the near desolving of my marriage, the trainwreck of my husband losing his job, the brokenness of coming to grips with his extramarital affair, and the nearly insurmountable task of piecing our lives back together and solidifying our marriage. So I suppose that perhaps I'm just more reflective this year. But it goes deeper....
Maybe it's the joy I felt, surrounded by excited tots and teens, that stirs up so much emotion this holiday season as I remember Christmas at Hidden Valley? No, my own children are just as excited as the siblings were there, it must go deeper than this too. I wonder.
It goes to my heart, to my own sense of belonging, a sense of acceptance and non-judgement, the instillment of self-worth. It touches the core of who I am to be home with them, to be anywhere with them, for that is where my identity took shape, where I was nourished and sustained. I miss home not because of where it is, but because of what it is and who it is.
It is the feeling of belonging, the knowing that I am accepted just as I am, with nothing more. I don't need to put on masks or wear smiles if I don't feel like it. At home, I am at peace, surrounded by those who know me better than I know myself. At home, I am loved and cherished, and I created something in my world there. I was part of something greater, a community of broken souls yearning for wholeness.
Here, in the wilderness, I am alone and I often lose my way without my north star, my guiding force, my family. So I miss them and I yearn to see them, to be with them and bask in their love and joy this Christmas seasona. But I will be with them... in spirit even if not literally.
"A tender Tennessee Christmas is the only Christmas for me...." sounds beautiful in North Carolina. It speaks to snow-covered places in my heart today. And for a while, I was able to brush the snow from the casket and reminisce, thanks to John Denver.
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