It’s Christmas Eve and I just had to get out of the apartment, knowing that I won’t be going anywhere tomorrow and we’re about to get snowed in. The streets were already slick when I left, so my visit to the coffee shop needs to be brief.
There are many things on my mind, and many events to report, so I’ll just start writing and see what happens.
First, the good news:
We’re having a BOY!
Not that it’s a surprise, seeing as how everyone has suggested it was a boy (particularly Gabriel). So I’ll set aside my creative girl names and take a deep breath as Papa Bear intensifies the search for the perfect name for his first-born son.
We weren’t expecting to find out the gender so soon, but it was quite obvious. When we were in Alabama last weekend for Daniel’s wedding, Poppa called and said we could come in for an ultrasound at the hospital. This was a great idea because then Gabriel and both my parents could get a glimpse of our June Bug. It was magical. He popped up on the screen instantly and was wriggling, kicking, punching, swallowing, and dancing all over my belly. So perfect. Seeing his fingers and toes, his perfect spine and little face, I felt a peace inside me that silenced all my anxiety. There was my son, my perfect baby boy, not quite the length of my hand, showing off his jazzy dance skills. It’s a sight I will never forget, alongside the way my heart jumped when the tech said “It’s a boy!” My husband and my parents – the ones who know me best – were there beside me. This Christmas is Baby Blue.
I enjoyed our time in Alabama. Crowds aren’t really my thing nowadays, but I endured it with enjoyment this time. Watching my little brother get married was unusually relieving. I don’t know any other way to describe it. It was like being able to take a deep breath and let it out in a comforting sigh. It was also really great to spend time with my family, specifically my parents and the Finchers, and my grandfather who looked so proud and handsome in his new suit. My great-aunts and uncles were at the wedding too, and they once again brought a big smile to my heart with their stories of being married for 60 and 70 years. Once again, I am reminded that I have a heritage of gold. It’s times like those that I really really miss my grandmother. She missed both our weddings and the news of our baby by less than a year. I miss her. I really miss her.
Coming home always opens up the floodgates of emotion for me, many different kinds of emotion. So many memories that I’ve run away from, so many that I cherish, a casserole of hurts and comforts. Each time I return, I’m caught by surprise, whether it be by my most beloved people turning a cold shoulder to me, or rediscovering the beautiful sight of my hometown lit up on a winter night. I walk away both refreshed and drained. It’s hard for me to imagine living there again, unable to run away like I always have in the past. I think I’ll need to go through more inner healing in regards to my hometown memories before I can live there again. But God is merciful.
There are many more things I would like to say, but the snow is falling heavier now and I need to get home.
