In our Powers' home, we prepared for Christmas one birthday at a time. My dad’s birthday is during Thanksgiving, my sister Amy and I are next but only one week apart, and Mama’s birthday is the day after Christmas. All my life, we intentionally celebrated each of us giving those days the proper recognition that Mama felt it deserved. She called us her Christmas girls.
My parents gave me an incredible sister who is smarter, kinder, and a better cook than I could ever hope to be. Amy, our hummingbird in high heels, whirls around us with affection and tough love. Mama adored all kinds of really good food, and Amy (not me) can recreate her best dishes. I have the recipes in Mama’s beautiful handwriting, but Amy says the secret to Mama’s good food is to always add more butter, more sugar, or a lot more salt. Over the years, December was the month for my parents to pamper, shop, celebrate, and love on me and Amy. Mama was always certain that we could each work out our busy schedules to be together. Mountain trips. Beach trips. Shopping trips. Skiing trips. Weekend getaways. Vacations by the Tuck River or Lake Burton. Sometimes it was a simple, short visit to toast with eggnog in her great room or a meal in a random restaurant at a halfway point. When she decided she wanted to see her girls and would not wait a moment longer, she found her way to us. During this first advent season without Mama, we celebrate her in all our traditions. Tears are part of our new journey without her, but a lifetime of powerful memories sustain us. There were still countless conversations in the hospital rooms throughout the summer. We really talked about everything as she gently prepared me for what she understood as inevitable, and I refused to accept. I confessed to her that I would not know what to do without her; there is still so much that I don’t know how to do. She adamantly reminded me of the beautiful life ahead of me as a wife, mother, and grandmother. I am thankful for the last week when she told me to stop being dramatic. It is the only thing that stops my crying now, and I even laugh a little at the irony. Mama is the one who taught me to be dramatic. I am thankful for the unwavering conviction in her voice when she said was not afraid. She knew she would meet her Lord and Savior. My father honored her choices and tenderly cared for her even though it broke his heart. I am thankful for that last hours when I placed my hand over her heart so I could feel its determined beat as long as possible. Daddy, Amy, and I held her as she wanted in that last quiet moment. Mama sealed her salvation with her steadfast faith. She showed us how to celebrate this new life- even this Christmas, with new meaning – to place our hope in Him, to embrace every opportunity to choose His peace that passes all understanding, and to find joy in the time we spend together even though it is without her. She reminded us of her source of strength. We are forever her Christmas girls.
1 Comment
Aunt Donna
12/3/2023 07:24:56 pm
Joanna, Your mother was an angel on earth and is now an angel in heaven. She loved your dad with all her heart and all her being. She also loved you and Amy the same way. She was one special person and I am so honored that I loved her and that I got to count her as family. Christmas will be very different for your family as you celebrate without her, but you know that she is celebrating with you and watching over all of you. Love you each of you as you celebrate the holidays with our your precious Jana.
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JoAnna Arnold
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