12/24/68 and love
“But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13.
We all have been excitedly watching Jupiter and Saturn so close together in the past night sky that some have questioned as a possible “Bethlehem star” so many years ago.
If you also were alive on the night of December 24th, Christmas Eve, 1968, to see what was then this most amazing picture from Apollo 8, do you remember what else you were doing? I remember much, but also remember so little. My husband and I were interns at John Gaston City of Memphis Hospital working that night, so we missed the traditional Christmas Eve services. Instead, we went to the quieter Christmas Day services at St. Mary’s Cathedral that next morning. We were not married until the next year, but it was a special Christmas, the first holiday we could be together.
I do not remember the patients I took care of that night or what presents we gave each other for Christmas. I do remember that our best friend, Charles Stallings, taught us how to make gold and red Christmas ornament balls we hung on that first tree. We still have some large balls, and we try to tell our grandchildren, Zoe and Turner, about them as they traditionally help us hang them or more occasionally have fun throwing the decorative balls on our tree each year.
The most memorable part, however, of that Christmas was meeting Robert’s parents for the first time at their home for Christmas dinner that night. I don’t remember what we ate, but; I do remember the red dress I wore. I was so nervous. I was damaged goods, and I feared that they could not like or much less love me. I was divorced, and Robert was in the process of being divorced. I remember how they accepted me with open arms and treated me as if I were a lovable person from the start. Their unconditional love and care never ended. I still feel their presence today, even though they have been dead for some time.
The only way I can continue to return that love is to pay it forward today to my children and their children and their spouses’ families. I remember when Elizabeth died that I would pray that if she would continue to watch over her grandchildren that I would care for her husband, Bob. I didn’t keep up my part of the bargain as well as she did. I could always have done more.
I know that love never dies. Bob and Elizabeth have taught me that. I still feel the unconditional love they showed to me in so many ways, even today, over fifty years later. It is a presence. It is a feeling. It is knowledge. It is present in their only son, who also knows much more about unconditional love than I do. I also see it in their three grandchildren, whom they loved so dearly. I know love can change the world, one person, one family at a time. I have seen it.
This is my messy story of the love that came down at Christmas.
Joanna joannaseibert.com
