Christmas 1997

My husband , son and I lived in Montana for about 5 years. We lived in a log home that was in itself beautiful, but was also surrounded by 3 acres of land that backed up against the Bridger Mountains. These mountains are spectacular all year round, but in the Winter they are truly amazing . There is always snow and lots of it; and to look out of your window each day and see what God has blanketed the earth in, is awesome!

My dad had passed on several years before I moved to Montana but my mom, although in her eighties, made the trip to our home on several different occasions. The most memorable being Winter of 1997.

During this season it was so much fun to get a permit and go cut down our Christmas tree. Since our home was two-story and had ceilings that reached to Heaven, we could accommodate the tallest tree imaginable. After hours of searching, my son found the 'perfect' tree. He and my husband cut it down and we all helped haul it to the truck. When we got home we all helped drag, push and pull it into the house.

We played Christmas music and drank hot apple cider. All the decorations from the past were brought out and sorted through. What fun! After the final touches were made and the lights plugged in, we all sat back and were quiet for awhile. It was a beautiful sight!

The best memory I have of that Christmas, was after it was over. My mom and I were alone. We were snuggled up in an over-sized chair, covered up with a warm flannel throw. Two steaming mugs of hot chocolate sat on the table in front of us. It was a peaceful time. Many memories shared over the last few decades.

Mom reached over to a small table next to her side of the chair and picked up the journal I had given her for Christmas. It was titled, Reflections from a Mother's Heart . It was separated by month and the pages had headings like; "What was your favorite pastime as a child?" and "Describe your childhood bedroom", etc. Without a word she handed it to me. I had heard stories growing up about her life... growing up in the Midwest, but there was so much more to tell. For the duration of her visit that Winter we ended every night the same way. We only got through about ½ of the journal but we planned on finishing it the next time we saw each other. Sadly, that was our last Christmas together!

Every now and then I take out the journal and read through it ... I can only use my imagination for the unfinished pages...still, I am so grateful that I had the chance to get to know my mom better that wonderful Winter in Montana.