trees and traditions

The 10th of December was a Saturday this year. That in and of itself has very little importance, but it happened to be the day this year that my family did one of our most important tradition. By most important I mean oldest and most fun and when it comes to tradition that means a lot.

Every year since my very first Christmas my family has gone up to the hills and cut a fresh Christmas tree. (That is not entirely true there was one year, when things were crazy busy ,that we settled for a lot tree, but none of us count that.) We always head up to Boa Vista tree farm, a nice family farm run by a sweet old man and his family, and get a redwood tree in the fifteen to twenty foot range for the living room. This year I was the one that found the tree we ended up cutting down.

For the third time Jeremy and I also got a tree for our place. The tree we picked was a seven footer that smelled amazing, for the first two days we had it I would constantly rub it to get the smell on my hands and in my room. The tree sat in the corner until Wednesday when I had the chance to buy a new tree stand and some ornaments then we decorated the tree and watched “A Christmas Carol.” I feel like my little apartment really had the Christmas spirit this year.

Death funerals and mourning

The month of December started for my family with the death of my grandfather. My mom’s dad has been coping with colon cancer for the past year or so and had been in the hospital since thanksgiving, so his death was not unexpected. I had never been very close to Grandpa McCann, he was not the kind of person that was easy to be close to, yet his death has raised in me complex thoughts and feelings.

Part of this is because my Grandfather is one of the few members of my family who is not a member of my faith. This raises questions as to weather I will ever see him again. I want to believe that death will be able to soften his disposition and that he would except the gospel. I hope that after my life is ended that I will be able to get to know and love him as I could not here on earth, but I honestly I don’t have much faith in him. That probably sounds harsh but it is how I feel. Also on some level I may be harboring resentment that I was not able to have a better relationship with him in the past. Some of that I may be feeling more because I think my mother feels that way to some extent.

In spite of the fact that he was not LDS his services were. Each of his children spoke then Edi, his girlfriend of the past two years, and the concluding speaker was my father, who spoke about service and forgiveness. He was then buried with full military honors witch was very impressive.

That week my mother’s family spent together for the first time in as long as I can remember. I believe that death is simply a part of life, a transition rather than an end, and I believe that death and mourning can be a critical first step to healing and forgiveness. I fervently hope my family can heal.