A Cardinal Christmas: Remembering Mom Mom
Blogmas Day 18
I’ve had a hard time writing this blog post. You’d think that after blogging for 10 years, and after writing blog posts every day this month, that writing this one would be easy.
Of all the words I have floating around in my brain, sometimes it’s a difficult task to get them out, correctly and in the way I want them shared.
Although Christmas is a wonderful and joyous time for many, it is not lost on me that this year is also extremely difficult for some, too. Whether you have lost someone close to you or are not physically close to your loved ones, this Christmas, and many like it, are difficult. This year especially puts an additional burden on our hearts for those who are gearing up to spend it physically alone.
Christmas, to some, is a day that no longer feels joyous or merry.
Although I may not fully experience the grief or pain you are feeling this season, it is not something I want to ignore.
Last Christmas was the first Christmas without Mom Mom, who passed away from cancer in summer 2019. The “firsts” were difficult but the “seconds,” the “thirds,” the “fourths,” and others that follow are equally challenging. I think the “firsts” get a lot of attention, but the grief and pain do not simply disappear once it hits the one year mark.
I know many who lost a loved one this year, whether through COVID-19, cancer, or another form of tragedy. It is extremely heartbreaking and my heart goes out to you. Although there is nothing I can do to take the pain away, I am praying for you this Christmas season. I’m praying for Jesus’ love to embrace you and give you the comfort and peace you may not physically be experiencing right now.
Christmas, I think, hits a bit harder for those in pain. My Mom Mom, for example, absolutely loved Christmas, preparing for it, hosting family, decorating, and playing Christmas carols on the piano. When I think of Christmas, many of my memories include her and my Pop Pop. How they visited on Christmas Day, how we went to their house every December 26th, how they dressed up as Santa and Mrs. Clause to deliver the “special gift” to each of us, every year, even when they said “this year will be the last year.”
Cardinals remind me of Mom Mom. Every time we saw one in the snow, she’d point it out and say how lovely it was. “The red against the white, isn’t it beautiful, Keri?” she’d say. And cardinals were our thing. She’d find ways to integrate cardinals in the gifts she gave. I have a few cardinal ornaments, soap with a photo of a cardinal on it, and cardinal notebooks, to name a few.
What I didn’t know until this year, however, is what the cardinal represents.
When you see a cardinal, it supposedly represents a visitor from heaven. “Cardinals appear when loved ones are near.” It symbolizes that your loved one is watching over you and sending a little message through the red bird.
Whether or not you agree with the representation, I don’t find it a coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidence but in God’s perfect timing, that He cares so much for the little details that something like a type of bird could also happen to represent something special.
This Christmas, and many before and after it, is a Cardinal Christmas for some.
Although we cannot bring our loved ones back, Jesus cares and sees our pain. He understands the hole that is left in our hearts, the pain that has shattered it, and the days that feel different because of it. He cares so deeply about us that His attention to detail is astounding.
Like when you’re driving on the highway and your loved one’s favorite song comes on.
Like when you watch a movie and a character reminds you of them.
Like when a specific memory catches you off guard and feels like it happened just yesterday.
Like when you are washing dishes, look out the window, and see a cardinal in the snow.
These details, these “coincidences,” are not there by chance. They are there on purpose, they are intentional, they are moments of Jesus reminding you that you are not alone. He cares for your heart, He sees that you’re grieving, and He has never forgotten you even when you feel invisible or alone. Even when the “firsts” come and go but the grief stays. There is nothing to change it but there’s the God of the universe who understands it.
During your Cardinal Christmas, whether this is your first, second, tenth, or fortieth, your grief is seen and you are not alone. I’m praying for you today and during this season, for comfort and for peace. And when you see a cardinal, know that Jesus sees you, too, and He loves you with an everlasting love.
“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” - Isaiah 41:10