Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’

27
Feb

Collecting Memories

   Posted by: Michael Bernier   in Yesterday's Memories

My son and I went to a coin show yesterday. I started collecting coins when I was a few years younger than he is now, and for me it has been a lifelong interest. I got both of my sons started in the hobby a few years ago; Stephen was building a set of Lincoln cents (and had almost completed it) when he died, and Matthew has been working on Buffalo nickels. Not to be completely left out, I chose to collect Indian Head cents. On top of that, I have almost finished a set of Eisenhower dollars (I have one more coin to find).

My crowning achievement in coin collecting is a set of all the State Quarters. Or rather, four sets – one for me and one for each of my children. I spent nine years putting them together, picking up the new coins as they came out each year and gradually filling up the album pages. It was a complete secret from everyone in my family; I had been keeping the albums locked in a desk drawer at the office. The last state, Hawaii, came out in early December 2008, and after all that work I was finally able to give them to the kids as Christmas presents that year. The looks on their faces when they opened up those boxes was priceless; they simply could not believe that anyone could keep such a project “under wraps” for that long without a single word about it getting out.

But, what I thought was equally important was the following letter I included in their albums. Michelle read it out loud for everyone:

Christmas 2008

To Michelle, Stephen, and Matthew,

There are so many things I’ve thought about saying to you when this time finally arrived; I really don’t know the best place to start!

Maybe I should start with answering some of the questions I’m sure you have:

  • No, you are not dreaming…you each have a very real, completely full album of uncirculated State Quarters. Every P and D mintmark for all 50 states are here – 100 coins in all.
  • I bought the albums and coins and assembled them all myself, and even though the pages let you see both sides of each coin, I put the P quarters in face-up and the D quarters face-down; I thought they looked better that way.
  • I started working on them in the year 2000, the year after the State Quarters program started. In all, it took me 9 YEARS to put them together!
  • No, your mother did not know anything about them. I have kept them locked up in a desk drawer at work until the week before today.
  • No, I don’t know exactly how much it cost me to put them together, or how much they are worth, but I’m sure that whatever it is today will only go higher in the years to come.
  • And yes, as I was putting these albums together, I put a fourth one together for myself. Now that I have given these to you, I plan to keep mine in my office at home.

 Now that I have those questions out of the way, let me try to tackle the one that I didn’t answer: Why did I do this?

I could probably write a book about all the reasons why I put these albums together for you, and maybe someday I will. Until then, here are the reasons that mean the most to me, and hopefully they will mean a lot to you as well:

First of all, this is the last Christmas all of us will be living in the same house, and I wanted to do something to remember these most precious years that have simply flown by for me; by sheer coincidence, this worked out and I was able to complete these albums at the same time. I’ve watched all three of you as you’ve been growing up, each developing your own personalities and starting to choose the directions you want to take. These have been the key years for you, and as I’ve turned through the pages and looked at each coin, I think back to what each of you were doing, or learning, or trying to be at that time in your lives. Those are days I will never, ever forget.

Next, I wanted to demonstrate to you how it is possible to achieve your goals, even when they can seem impossible to accomplish. The key is perseverance. As I mentioned, it took 9 years to put these albums together; other than school, I’m sure there’s very little you can imagine spending that much time doing right now. I’m sure you all have many dreams, and maybe some really good ideas of what you’d like to do with your lives – and I’m also sure many of those dreams and ideas seem out of reach. When you look at your album, remember the effort it took to put it together, and know that you can do whatever you set out to do if you stick with it long enough.

The last reason I’ll mention here is going to sound a little selfish. I wanted to give you something to help you remember me in the years to come. We are all placed on this world for a measure of time, and these albums will still be here long after I’m gone. When those days come, it is my hope that every now and then you will find the chance to pull yours out, look through it, and think about a happy time when we were together. And when you have your own children and they grow old enough, perhaps you’ll be able to share that time with them as well.

Let me close by saying that, although I haven’t always “been there” and it’s felt at times as if I’ve been so busy that I don’t seem to notice, I am so dearly proud of all three of you. I could not have asked for children who are any more gifted with knowledge and talents than you are, and it will be my great pleasure to watch in the years to come as you go higher and father and achieve more than I have been able to do.

Love Always,
Dad

As she was reading, I looked at Steve. He was looking down at the album and slowly shaking his head. Then he lifted his head and I could see he had a slight smile on his face. I knew in that moment I had made a connection with him that only a parent could understand.

That is one memory I will forever treasure.

30
Dec

An Unexpected Homecoming

   Posted by: Michael Bernier   in Today's Reality

On the Monday before Christmas we received a phone call from our daughter Michelle, who has been living in San Antonio with her boyfriend and his mother for almost a year. My wife talked with her for a while, as they usually do, and came to me after she hung up the phone.

“She said he’s broken up with her, and she wanted to know if she could move back home,” my wife said.

“That was sudden,” I replied. “When was she planning to come up here?”

“They want her out of the apartment before Christmas,” she said. “And with everything she’s got down there, it’ll take the truck to move it all here.”

“The truck” referred to my 14-year-old Ford F-250 diesel pickup with just over 200,000 miles on it. That is a lot of miles, but in the diesel world it represents about half of the engine’s useful life; it is not uncommon for these trucks to run up to half a million miles before they finally bite the dust. It is not pretty to look at, but I did not buy it for its looks; it was that engine that attracted me to it in the first place.

“That’s about a six hour drive each way. Are you up to riding in the truck that long?” I asked. San Antonio is approximately 350 miles from our home.

“I guess I’ll have to be,” was the answer.

“All right, find out when she will be packed and we’ll go from there. It’s been a long time since I filled up both of the truck’s fuel tanks.”

A couple of phone calls later, we had most of the arrangements worked out. She would be ready to go on Thursday the 23rd. I came up with an aggressive game plan: we would get up at 4am and be out the door by 6, arrive in San Antonio around lunchtime, load her stuff, eat lunch, and drive home, hopefully getting back in time for a late dinner.

The next two days were spent hurriedly finishing up our Christmas shopping. Fortunately, we had already done all of our shopping for Michelle, and had even shipped her presents to her the Friday before. She had been told not to open the shipping box until Christmas Day; now, in an ironic twist, the box would be coming back to our house to be opened.

Thursday, 4am. My wife and I struggled to get out of bed, drag ourselves into the shower, get dressed, and grab a bite to eat before heading out the door. A stop at a gas station to top off the tanks, and we were on our way. The drive down was somewhat uneventful; the most excitement came while we were going through Austin, the state capitol. The traffic there reminded me very much of downtown Atlanta when we used to live in Georgia: everyone running flat out, dodging and weaving their way like they were in a NASCAR race. The one benefit from that was it did not take us very long to drive through the city.

We finally arrived in San Antonio, pretty close to the time I had envisioned. Following the directions we had mapped out the day before, we found our way to the street where the apartment complex was located, and with Michelle helping on the other end of my cell phone we made it to the entrance gates. We pulled up in front of the apartment building and saw our daughter, standing alone. After a quick greeting and hugs all around, we went inside the apartment. I met her now ex-boyfriend and his mother for the first (and probably only) time, and much to my relief everyone was quite civil about the situation. They helped with loading her things into the truck, then after a round of goodbyes we left.

After stopping for lunch, we got back out on the highway and retraced our route to go home. Unfortunately, the trip back was more eventful than the trip out. There were traffic jams in two different cities, each taking an hour or so to get through; and, the truck was also losing antifreeze somehow, taking almost two extra gallons of it to get home (I learned later the heater core had a split in it). Thanks to the delays, it was almost 9pm when we finally arrived at the house. We unloaded Michelle’s things and piled them into her bedroom, fixed ourselves something to eat, then sat down to relax. The cost for spending 15 hours on the road? Aside from frazzled nerves all around, it took 35 gallons of fuel, two gallons of antifreeze, lunch and snacks.

But, our daughter was back in our home, safe and sound. We do not know how long she will be staying with us; it could be weeks, months, or even longer. One thing I do know: she has been missed by all of us.

Welcome home, Michelle.

We can find it everywhere – the bright Christmas lights, ornately decorated Christmas trees, radio stations playing Christmas music, and of course the Christmas sales on gift items we would not pay any attention to buying the other 11 months of the year. The countdown began after Thanksgiving, leading up to a day that is filled with great joy and excitement.

Like most people, I usually look forward to the Christmas season each year: spending time with family, exchanging gifts and good cheer, sharing old memories and making new ones, and reflecting on the year that has nearly passed. This Christmas, however, will be very different. In spite of my best efforts, I know the good cheer will be more somber, the memories bittersweet, and the reflections more contemplative. I suppose this is to be somewhat expected; the memories of Stephen’s accident are still very fresh in my mind and still weigh heavily on my heart. I doubt there has been a waking hour in the past six months when I have not thought about my son.

There are some friends of mine who seem simply amazed that I can function at all, and cannot imagine themselves being as “strong” as I have been in this situation. If the truth be told, I do not look at myself as a strong person; I may appear calm, cool, and collected on the outside, but if you could look into my heart and mind you would find I am a total wreck. My wife has commented that she has not seen me crying openly for our son, as she has been doing; what she does not understand is that on the inside I have not stopped crying since the day he died.

What is it that keeps me going forward? I believe it has been because of the need for “someone” to make sure that all of the things that needed to be done on Steve’s behalf were actually done. From making sure all of the funeral arrangements and details were covered, to handling all of the paperwork, and to being the “voice” of the family, I have focused on each task and given it my utmost attention and effort.

The last of those tasks is soon to be completed – we have received word that the monument for Stephen’s grave is finally finished and will be installed sometime within the next few days. What will happen to me after that is done? Will I still be “strong” or will I collapse into a blob of uncontrollable emotion? Or something in between? I do not know for sure, but I will find out soon enough.

In the meantime, the Christmas countdown continues…