The
holidays, for the most part, were good to the Fletcher family.
Of course, I like to joke that my birthday on the 18th came in with fire
and left with rain & tornados. Shortly after midnight, I overheard a
page for my old department on a brush fire run. I was close to the station
and stopped by to ride out on the call. I'm very happy working for
Lakeland
Fire... but after six months of being gone, I still miss making runs with
Smallville.
After the fire and a trip to Wal-Mart for icing & such, I went home and
spent a couple of hours decorating my cake. For some, the idea of decorating
your own birthday cake ranks up there with wrapping your own Christmas gifts.
But I enjoy coming up with new stuff every year and the results are usually
interesting. I have a photo of this year's cake somewhere... Maybe I'll try
to dig it up & share.
The day of my birthday was relatively uneventful. As tradition dictates,
my family,
Jessie
& I gathered together in late afternoon for presents & cake. I got
pretty decent loot... Most notably a DVD from my brother, a much-needed chair
for my computer desk from
Jessie
and a cherry filing cabinet from my mom. I do believe that after a few more
gift-giving holidays, my apartment will have what it needs.
After dinner, the fun started. Rough weather and tornados started popping
up all over the south part of the country. A few ugly storms wreaked havoc
around
Lakeland
and for a few hours, I thought I might get called back to help out. I avoided
that and
Smallville
was spared, as it only got rain -- albeit lots of it.
While the city dodged major damage, the Fletcher home wasn't so lucky. As
the day began with a bit of excitement, it ended with some more.
Jessie,
my brother & I were sitting around late that night when a great flash
of light filled the entire house, thunder clapped as though it was down the
street and the television in the den popped... and died of an electricity
overdose.
On Christmas Eve, I once again had the
chance to be a big part of my church's annual candlelight service. I've always
considered the services on Christmas Eve the most magical of any I've ever
been to and playing a role in them only increases that feeling.
For the second year in a row, I got to be the Linus of sorts and read from
the second chapter of Luke in the Bible. It's an awesome story to think of
how in one moment, these shepherds were just hanging out and trying to keep
warm... And, in the next moment, heavenly beings unlike anything they'd ever
seen were essentially telling them that the world would never be the same.
I can't begin to imagine what that was like.
As a Presbyterian, my religious practices usually fall on the dull end of
the spectrum. It's sort of odd because while we don't mind homosexuals joining
the church or women being ministers... we're pretty sedate in worship. We
don't clap. We don't shout "Amen!" Our music is usually limited to organs,
choirs and old hymns. I've never seen a Presbyterian speak in tongues or
dance in the isles. But none of that means that services aren't any less
special to us... or any less powerful. Christmas Eve brought evidence of
that.
I was standing at the front of the church as the lights dimmed and every
person in the congregation lit their own small white candle. The hymn was
Silent Night. Candles flickered on the sills of every stained glass window...
And each person's candle provided a warm glow that illuminated their faces...
Well, it was too much. I've laid my eyes on few sights more beautiful than
looking out at all of those people glowing with the Christmas spirit. I choked
up and I was overwhelmed with emotion. It stunned me. After all, I'm a
Presbyterian and that's not supposed to happen. I'm glad it did.
My mom came into my room about 10:30
Christmas morning to ask when I was planning on getting up. I told her to
give me 20 more minutes. Now there's a sign that I'm growing up.
Long gone are the mornings where my brother and I would wake before dawn
to see the cornucopia of gifts left by Santa. Also gone is the crazy rate
at which we could open gifts. Now, we sleep late and take our time with the
presents under the tree. There's only three of us, so we open gifts one at
a time. The result is that we usually open gifts until lunch, eat and the
have the afternoon to put some of our new acquisitions into use (or nap).
I've been joking that 2002 brought the least Griswold-esque Christmas in
recent memory. Everyone got along. Everyone got want they wanted. No one
got socks. I consider that a success. |
