Christmas Lights

“Mommy, our house is pretty but it’s not Christmasy.”

This was my daughter’s assessment of my festive, yet understated, outdoor Christmas decorations last year. My display contained no illuminated reindeer or inflatable Santas. There were no icicle lights or lights of any color other than white. I typically hang a garland around the front door, put candles in the windows and place a couple of Christmas topiaries on either side of the front door. I think it is lovely. My daughter, however, thinks we need a lot more.

Two doors down, our neighbors used to go all out each Christmas. Their house was the epitome of Christmas spirit. Almost every surface of the house was lit, inside and outside. They put up multiple Christmas trees, candles in the windows, garlands with colored lights along the eaves, a large illuminated Santa head and used this cool contraption that projected falling snow onto the front of the house. That is just the short list of decorations. Believe me, there was more. I used to take my daughter over there to see the house. It was a Christmas wonderland to her and THAT is what she had in mind when she judged my decorations as not “Christmasy.”

My neighbor, Mark, was the driving force behind all those decorations. He loved holidays and loved to decorate. He also loved to cook and make decadent deserts. Mark always made you feel completely welcome when you visited – even if it was the first time. His entire family is like that, actually. The door to their house was always open (literally) and the house was usually full of people – family, friends and/or neighbors, people of all ages and backgrounds. There was always a crowd and always plenty of food and sweet tea.

They moved out of the neighborhood over a year ago and we hated to see them go. We visited them at the new place right before Christmas last year and all the old, familiar decorations were there, including all the Christmas trees (seven, I think). Mark had goodies to eat and we spent a delightful afternoon in their company. The old house, the one on my street, however, was dark. I missed the old lights. I missed the family, too. The street just wasn’t the same without them.

In June of this year, Mark died suddenly of a heart attack. His death was a shock to everyone who knew him. His memorial service was packed - standing room only. Former students, friends, co-workers, family members, neighbors…. So many people touched by this one man and his family. I was familiar with some of the stories told that evening but many were new to me. I knew he was a great guy but, apparently, I only knew the tip of the iceberg. It was hard for me to weep because the stories of the wonderful things he had done for others made me smile. He was an amazing person and will be missed by everyone who knew him.

When someone like Mark passes, people like to say that their light has gone out. Well, Mark was not just ONE light; he was seven Christmas trees, illuminated garlands, candles in the windows and the cool falling snow gadget.  He was his house at Christmastime – bright, cheerful, festive, fun. He was over the top with his kindness, joy and friendship. Every time I drive by the old house this holiday season, the dark windows will remind me that he is no longer with us. That will be tough. This Christmas – and all future Christmases - just won’t be the same without him. I can’t even begin to know how much harder it will be for his wife and children.

As I put up my white lights and garlands, my tasteful wreaths and strategically placed topiary trees, I will remember Mark. Maybe I will add some lights to the shrubs or throw in (gasp!) some colored lights among the white ones. Better yet, maybe I will be more kind, joyful and friendly.  Maybe I can make others feel welcome and safe in my house, just like Mark did.

In other words, maybe I will be more Christmasy.