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The Best Christmas Gift Ever

Ghosts and Christmas? Do they mix? Well, I can’t say these were two things I ever put together before, but now they do for me because of the gift my father gave me one Christmas morning.

Eight years ago my father passed away just after Thanksgiving while in the hospital waiting for bypass surgery. It was a shock to us all and that holiday season was more subdue that normal.

My mother and younger sister were planning to come down to my house (about an hour away) on Christmas Day, but called around dinnertime on the 24th asking if they could come that night. It was just too hard to be in at my parent’s house.

Of course, my husband and I said yes and when it was time for bed, he and I got comfortable on the pull out couch and gave our bedroom to my sister and mom.

As the sun rose Christmas morning, I woke up to sunshine streaming through the windows and the sound of someone singing. It was coming from the bathroom, which was just off the living room.

I knew that voice.

As a child going to church on Sundays was extra special because I loved listening to my father sing the hymns. To me, he always sounded like Elvis. That was my father’s voice I now heard coming from the bathroom.

Shocked, I reached over to shake my husband awake, but then the bathroom door opened. My father, dressed in his usual outfit of jeans, sneakers, sweatshirt and ball cap came strolling out.

He looked wonderful. He looked the same.

I couldn’t speak as he walked into the living room, and past the end of the bed. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him walk by. I slowly turned over, unable to take my eyes off him.

He sat down in the rocker recliner next the Christmas tree, and looked at me. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This couldn’t be happening. My father was gone and had been for close to a month now. The rational side of me knew that, but how did that explain what I was seeing right before my eyes?

“Dad, what are you doing here?” (Not the best thing to say, but it was the first thing that popped into my head.)

His response?

“Where else would I be on Christmas morning?”

His words, clear and strong, brought tears to my eyes. He sat there, in full color and solid form, looking happy and healthy like he did just a few months ago. Both joy and fear filled me. I wanted this to be true . . . I wanted it with every ounce of my being.

I reached back to again wake my husband. When he didn’t respond, I rolled toward him and pushed on his shoulders This was important! He had to wake up!

Suddenly, my body jerked and my eyes flew open.

I was dreaming?

No. It couldn’t be a dream! It couldn’t! I clenched my hands into tight fists and choked back to tears that burned my eyes and squeezed my throat.

My husband murmured a raspy “what?”, then rolled over and went back to sleep. I was afraid to turn around, afraid of what I would find . . . or not find. But I had to know.

I turned back and this time I couldn’t hold back the tears. The rocker now sat empty, but it slowly rocked back and forth in a steady measured movement. I lay back down on my pillows, unable to look away.

Had I been dreaming? Was I still?

It didn’t matter.

I don’t remember falling back asleep, I can’t say I really remember much of the rest of the day. In fact, I didn’t share what happened that morning with my family until a few years later, but I’ll always remember how my dad had found a way to let me know he was there with us that Christmas.

And I know he’s been around for all the Christmases since then, as well as other special and ordinary days in my life. It’s a memory I cherish and when I woke yesterday morning, I took a few moments to say thank you to him for all the years we shared and for all those special moments when he finds a way to let me know he’s still a part of my life.

And that’s my best present, Christmas or otherwise, ever.

Christyne Butler
www.christynebutler.com
Embrace romance . . . happily ever after guaranteed!