How God used my day of birth.
I've heard it often since I was a kid.
"Man you were born on Christmas? That must suck". Most times I smile and nod. I may make a statement like "Yeah...it sucked having only 1 day of presents as a kid. If I didn't get Laser Tag...then I had 364 days to go to try my luck again"...etc.
What I don't tell people is how blessed I was to be born on Christmas...and how God ordained it not for me...but for my Grandfather (on my father's side).
What I didn't know till I was older...is that my Grandpa Ed hated Christmas when my Dad was growing up. The reasoning was sound I guess. See my Great Grandmother (Grandpa's mother) I guess passed away at 10:02 AM on a Christmas Day when he was still a boy. For every Christmas after that...the holiday was tainted.
My Grandpa Ed was a hard man to know. I learned that later with all the poems he wrote. I like to think that's where I got any talent for writing down my thoughts into words. He was able to write verses and songs to give an idea of what he was feeling...but that was the only way he would let his emotions out. Well Constructive way anyway.
So in any event...this hard man was the original Scrooge. Sure he had reason...but I can't imagine what it would be like to grow up with Christmas being a holiday not looked forward to by my family.
Fast forward many many years...and my Mom announces she's pregnant with their first child. Though the doctors have told her the baby wouldn't come until late January...my mother was insistant that I would probably be a Christmas baby. She tells my Grandfather..."I expect you to be there when he's born Dad." Now my Grandfather LOVED my mother. He thought she was pretty great...but he was VERY noncommital. My Grandmother explained it later. She told Mom that Grandpa doesn't go to the hospital when ANY grandchildren are born. He hated hospitals even MORE than he hated Christmas. So she prepared Mom telling her she should not expect Grandpa to come up.
Fast Forward some months...and Mom and Dad come home after Christmas Eve at my other Grandma's...and Mom waits until Dad's undressed and getting comfy in bed before announcing that 'It's Time". Dad i don't think believed her right away...yeah Mom always said that I would be born on Christmas...but Doctors had told her that if she had me on Christmas...it would be VERY dangerous (I'd be over a month premature...in 1973.)
In any event..Dad gets up and drives Mom to Rochester General Hospital. And after some hours of labor...I was born...at 10:02 AM Christmas Day. If you look above...that time would be somewhat significant...it was the exact hour and minute that my Great-Grandmother and Grandpa's mom died.
Later that morning...while my Dad is looking at me proud as anything...he's in talking to my Mom and Grandma Short...Dad hears a familiar tune.
He looks out the door and sees my Grandpa Ed walking in whistling with a big smile on his face. He walks into my mother's room and wishes my Dad a merry Christmas and leans down and kisses my Mom...and says "Thank you"...and she says "for what?"
"For giving me my Christmas back"
He spent some time at the hospital I hear...looking at me and just happy. Then every one of the following 7 Christmases (until he passed) he spent at our house ...staying overnight with us so he could be there on Christmas morning...I read a few poems about me and this time that he wrote...and it still warms my heart.
So even though sometimes it may be tougher being born on Christmas...given what God was able to do through my birth...I never really truly mind and am thankful that God used me to restore someone's love of the celebration of his birth.
Thanks for reading;
"Man you were born on Christmas? That must suck". Most times I smile and nod. I may make a statement like "Yeah...it sucked having only 1 day of presents as a kid. If I didn't get Laser Tag...then I had 364 days to go to try my luck again"...etc.
What I don't tell people is how blessed I was to be born on Christmas...and how God ordained it not for me...but for my Grandfather (on my father's side).
What I didn't know till I was older...is that my Grandpa Ed hated Christmas when my Dad was growing up. The reasoning was sound I guess. See my Great Grandmother (Grandpa's mother) I guess passed away at 10:02 AM on a Christmas Day when he was still a boy. For every Christmas after that...the holiday was tainted.
My Grandpa Ed was a hard man to know. I learned that later with all the poems he wrote. I like to think that's where I got any talent for writing down my thoughts into words. He was able to write verses and songs to give an idea of what he was feeling...but that was the only way he would let his emotions out. Well Constructive way anyway.
So in any event...this hard man was the original Scrooge. Sure he had reason...but I can't imagine what it would be like to grow up with Christmas being a holiday not looked forward to by my family.
Fast forward many many years...and my Mom announces she's pregnant with their first child. Though the doctors have told her the baby wouldn't come until late January...my mother was insistant that I would probably be a Christmas baby. She tells my Grandfather..."I expect you to be there when he's born Dad." Now my Grandfather LOVED my mother. He thought she was pretty great...but he was VERY noncommital. My Grandmother explained it later. She told Mom that Grandpa doesn't go to the hospital when ANY grandchildren are born. He hated hospitals even MORE than he hated Christmas. So she prepared Mom telling her she should not expect Grandpa to come up.
Fast Forward some months...and Mom and Dad come home after Christmas Eve at my other Grandma's...and Mom waits until Dad's undressed and getting comfy in bed before announcing that 'It's Time". Dad i don't think believed her right away...yeah Mom always said that I would be born on Christmas...but Doctors had told her that if she had me on Christmas...it would be VERY dangerous (I'd be over a month premature...in 1973.)
In any event..Dad gets up and drives Mom to Rochester General Hospital. And after some hours of labor...I was born...at 10:02 AM Christmas Day. If you look above...that time would be somewhat significant...it was the exact hour and minute that my Great-Grandmother and Grandpa's mom died.
Later that morning...while my Dad is looking at me proud as anything...he's in talking to my Mom and Grandma Short...Dad hears a familiar tune.
He looks out the door and sees my Grandpa Ed walking in whistling with a big smile on his face. He walks into my mother's room and wishes my Dad a merry Christmas and leans down and kisses my Mom...and says "Thank you"...and she says "for what?"
"For giving me my Christmas back"
He spent some time at the hospital I hear...looking at me and just happy. Then every one of the following 7 Christmases (until he passed) he spent at our house ...staying overnight with us so he could be there on Christmas morning...I read a few poems about me and this time that he wrote...and it still warms my heart.
So even though sometimes it may be tougher being born on Christmas...given what God was able to do through my birth...I never really truly mind and am thankful that God used me to restore someone's love of the celebration of his birth.
Thanks for reading;
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