Light during the Darkest Nights (or, scattered thoughts on Luck and Loss)

I really think the Romans were on to something when they created the Christmas holiday to overlap with winter solstice (rather than, as I understand it, around the spring birth of Jesus Christ). This time of year can truly feel sacred, in good ways and bad.

I know I've heard a few of Sean's fans complain that there hasn't been a blog post in a while. Trust me, I've been working on it-- in my head at least. I've spent a lot of time, in particular, thinking about luck and loss. I've just not been up for posting but I figure the day after Christmas might be a good time to go for it.

(Or, well, I thought so before it got noisy outside the bedroom where Sean is taking his morning nap... so this may or may not work. Looks like he stayed asleep, though.)

I look at the sleeping, beautiful, healthy and happy baby over there and wonder how it is that we got so lucky-- and remind myself not to forget how lucky we are. While I at times have these thoughts unprompted, our friends Annie (whose wedding I was a part of as a very pregnant bridesmaid last year) and Jonathan are spending the holiday season grieving for the loss of their baby Evelyn and my heart is aching for them. For those who haven't heard the story, by a random freak accident of nature Evelyn kicked/twisted the umbilical cord six days or so before her due date in early November and died in utero. She was a healthy baby girl who'd won the lottery when it comes to parents and it's one of those things that happens for what I can only describe as absolutely no good or right reason. I haven't been up for updating the blog because every time I feel a sense of joy about something wonderful with Sean, it's been then shadowed by the sadness that another baby will not be prompting these feelings in the future.

I don't know why these things happen. The experience of losing my father (and of my mother losing her husband, of Sean and other future children losing their grandfather, of my Dad losing the chance to see his children get married and play with his grandchildren, etc.) made me pretty convinced that sometimes truly awful things happen for no good reason; this also makes me want to punch (sorry!) anyone who tries to console others by saying that there are reasons behind tragedies. Often I find that I am not comforted, but instead offended, during funerals or even by perusing condolence cards in the store.

Last Sunday morning, after DC got a record 16-inch snowstorm, we drove up to "The Lodge" in Stahlstown PA for Evelyn's memorial service. Along with about 18 others, we gathered in the beautiful chapel in Jimberg for a service before burying Evelyn's ashes as snow fell lightly outside. The retired minister's remarks were actually quite moving and insightful for me-- he shared how some of the pieces of the service were from a solstice service to help people get through the darkness, and that his interpretation is that God does not will things to happen, but God wills for good in what happens. As I think about Annie and Jonathan's mourning, I hope this is true for them if it will help.

We're now in California with Chris' family-- I'm typing this in the room Chris slept in for much of his childhood and I'm surrounded by scouting, spelling and sports paraphernalia, fitting as I think about how lucky we are to have a healthy boy (one who is cruising but not officially walking, and with an extremely nice and active father who corrects my misspellings) to celebrate the holidays with. I know from experience that this season can be a time of real joy, surrounded by family and friends, and intense sorrow, when you miss loved ones most acutely. Each of the days are getting longer/lighter, and I hope that's true for all of us and especially Ann, Jonathan, and their families.

Happy Holidays everyone!