Christmas-2003

I've been thinking alot about my dad lately. We were together the Christmas of 2003 at my brother, Abe's place. My dad wasn't feeling well and we were trying to figure out what was going wrong. We'd discover later that his remaining kidney was failing. Things went from bad to worse and after two hospitalizations, a broken hip, and pneumonia, he passed from this life into the next, on Feb. 2, 2004.

My dad loved Christmas. He would go all out. One Christmas, my brother Alan and I snuck out to the living room early in the morning. I'll never forget my delight in seeing a snowcone machine on the picture windowsill. I was sure it was for me, and it was. I think that was the same Christmas that I got an Incredible Edible machine. I could bake my own squiggly candy in the shapes of snakes and bugs, etc.

Before we would open our gifts on Christmas, my dad would read the Christmas Story from Luke 2. Mother may have read it sometimes, too. I remember one year that my mother cried when she opened the gift from my dad. It was a music box and it was beautiful. The melancholy, sweet sounds that came out of that little box were too much for her. She had to close the lid. I am not sure if she played it much, but we all knew that he had given her a gift that she loved very much. He would often get her a little Hummel figurine, and he bought her a special glass case to display them in.

My dad's side of the family would meet for a Diffenbach gathering at Ronk's Fire Hall in Ronks, Pa. My dad's sisters were big on hugging and kissing. My Aunt Esther is still living and I just sent her a newsletter. Sometimes, when I go past a mirror, I think, "Aunt Esther?!" Then, I realize, that it is just me. My mother always said that I was alot like her which always made me happy because I liked her and still do. Once, my Aunt Dottie kissed my little brother on the cheek. He began to rub his cheek. She sorrowed,"Are you rubbing off my kiss?" He replied,"No, I'm rubbing it in." I've heard this smart statement since that time, but I am here to tell you, that he is the orinal owner of it and he said it with all the sincerity of a Diffenbach Gentleman. At the Diffenbach gathering, Santa Claus would appear and hand out gifts. Sometimes, we'd sing silly songs, like "The Twelve Days of Christmas." Uncle Merv would play chess with an unfortunate opponent and there would be other games transpiring in different corners of the big room.

Those days are gone now. My dad had three syblings and Aunt Esther is the only one living. I miss my dad. I miss the good times with him. He was a generous man and very smart~ a brilliant businessman with a great sense of humor. My syblings all really miss him too. When we meet at my brother's house this Christmas, we will be careful not to leave his place empty at the table. It would be too much for all of us.

My mother has asked us to not buy her gifts this year. She asked that we would give money to 'Heifer's International' or some other missionary. It is like her. She wants for little and she desires little. She is doing well. She enjoys living at the Retirement Home. She has made some friends that feel like old friends and all her children and grandchildren love her dearly. She is surrounded by beauty and simplicity in her carriage house and she has deep books stacked by her bedside along with her writings. Her three cats keep her company and love her only.

I miss her too, and I will see her soon.