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That Hill
We went home to Endicott at Grammie and Grampie's this year of 2008. This Christmas seemed like every other Christmas. Only it wasn't. It is funny how a seemingly ordinary day, can become extraordinary in an instant. Sitting on the couch in the living room, I was absorbing the usual hustle and laughter that accompanies Christmas with a large family. Then, I had noticed that the kids were quiet. As I entered the kitchen, Grammie said "they are outside with Uncle Mike." So, I don my coat and grab a cup of coffee. As I approach the edge of the yard, I experience a da ja vu. I am sucked into a time warp, and have a feeling of losing my sense of where I am. My steps are on my Mom and Dad's yard in 1970. I am 6 years old. An uncanniness envelopes me. This is surreal. This is Small Town Nebraska. The winter trees and snow on the ground, mixed with children's laughter, is straight out of a Hallmark Christmas movie.
There is Uncle Mike with Seth, Krynn and Cousin Abbie. They have gotten out the old runner sled. The same one I used as a child. On the same hill, that time has not changed. Same road, same houses, same routine. Go down the hill. Stand there and watch for cars that rarely come. The next sledder rides down, and takes over as the watchman. So goes it in Small Town America. I watch the rapture on the children's faces, and become one with them. I can't seperate myself from the emotions they are feeling. Pure joy and adrenalin wrapped up into one. I can feel my lungs burning, while at the same time, sucking in cold air. I can feel the ache in my toes despite layers of clothes. I understand the beauty of a crisp winter day. And, the feeling of oneness with that beauty.
THIS IS ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS WHEN YOU REALIZE WHAT A
TREMENDOUS
gift you have been given. I thanked God for giving me this day. It will be remembered for the rest of my life. I am lucky to have had these childhood experiences. I am lucky to have had this family. I am lucky to have grown up in Endicott. The same town I couldn't wait to leave. Now, I am lucky to be able to give some of that back to my children.
As I look at these pictures, I realiize- in retrospect-that this indeed, was no ordinary Christmas. It was also the last Christmas we had wtih my brother Paul. He died 13 days later. I believe theses pictures will be cherished always. I will look at these, and connect again, with That Hill.
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