Observations from a full-time stay-at-home Dad, part-time adventure seeker, and recent transplant to Down East Maine.

Thursday, January 7, 2016

My Favorite Christmas Gift

At this point in my life, I’m far less interested in the things beneath the Christmas tree as I am in the people that surround it.

This year we were blessed to have our eldest daughter Erin join us in Ellsworth for our first Christmas in Maine. Three days before the holiday she drove the 3 ½ hours up, from her campus at the University of New Hampshire in Durham, with my 68 year-old mother behind the wheel. And, once they arrived, it felt to me like Christmas could officially begin.

Our youngest children are always so happy to see their big sister. And she gives them her utmost attention. Whether it’s doing Emily’s hair, or working on a special beading project. Playing a game with Ethan, or helping him build Legos. Having a boisterous game of hide and seek, or even sitting down quietly to read them both a book. She’s always happy to make time for them and enjoys all the moments they get to spend together.

I was also quite happy to spend some quality time with Erin this Christmas. Because I’m “working” from home now, I had a lot of new-found flexibility during the day. So, I took her on a tour of Bar Harbor. Wandering around, browsing the shops, and having a quick bite to eat at a local favorite. We drove through Acadia National Park, checked out Schooner Head, walked along Sand Beach, and grabbed a Chai at Northeast Harbor. Later we enjoyed a pint together down at Finn’s Irish Pub, in Ellsworth.

I met Erin's mother, Catherine, when she was 21 years old - Erin's age now. And, Erin reminds me so much of her these days it’s almost scary. When she smirks, or gives me a certain look, or even when she tosses her hair just right. It takes me back in time. Back to when her mom and I first got together. Back when she was happy. Before she got tangled up with drugs. Before the darkness seeped into her eyes and enveloped her soul.

Erin couldn’t possibly know that it’s her mom coming through when she does those things, but I do. At first it used to make me sad. Thinking back to how things went so horribly wrong. Now it makes me happy, to see the joy that Erin has and the exuberance she brings to everything she does. I am so proud of the person that she has, and continues to, become. And, the thought of that makes my sadness just melt away.

Erin was 8 years old when she stopped living with her mother, and 11 when she died. And, although Johanne has been there through most of those years, I know it must have been hard for Erin. Not having her mom around. But, it hasn’t squelched her positivity or her zest for life. And, it certainly hasn’t put a damper on her relationship with the littlest Wade’s. Those kids absolutely adore her.

…and so do I.

 

 







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