Merry Christmas from Heaven

This year marks the 11th Christmas without my dad. The holidays have gotten easier each year since he's passed, but those first several years were hard. 

On this Christmas Eve, I'm thinking of him especially, wondering what it would be like if he was here. I'd like to think that he would have had a full-grown gray beard like he always had this time of year (the better to shield his face from the brutal bone-chilling winds of duck hunting season), and I'm sure he would have lost a bit more of his hair and could have been balding on the top (more so than 10 years ago!). 

I'm quite positive that Miss Greta would surely give him a run for his money and wear him out with her constant playfulness, just enough so he'd get cozy on the couch and fall asleep while snuggling with his grandson Teddy. He'd be snoring so loudly that he'd often wake himself up, just like he did every other Christmas Eve.

Sometimes it's those simple little things you miss the most.


When my dad died, our neighbors gave us a poem, and each year, I display it on my mantle. Here's how it goes:

Merry Christmas from Heaven
By: John Mooney, Jr.

I still hear the songs
I still see the lights
I still feel your love
On cold winter nights

I still share your hopes
and all of your cares
I'll even remind you 
to please say your prayers

I just want to tell you
you still make me proud
You stand head and shoulders
above all the crowd

Keep trying each moment
to stay in his grace
I come here before you
to help set your place

You dont have to be
perfect all the time
he forgives you the slip
if you continue to climb

To my family and friends
please be thankful today
I'm still close beside you
in a new special way

I love you all dearly
now don't shed a tear
cause i'm spending my
Christmas with Jesus this year.


Just several months ago, we lost a sweet friend, Molly McBride. On this Christmas Eve I reminisce about my dad, but I also can't help but think of Molly and of her little girls, her family and dear friends. And I hate that here are no words that will ever comfort or explain or define -- there's no poem that will ever mend their hurting hearts. I pray for them, that they can find strength to get through. Unfortunately, it's so easier said than done.