Addendum to "Why I'm Grateful"

To all of my patient family and fellow bloggers who've been reading along with me this month:

OK -- here's the deal.  When you come from a really large family (note: I only have one child), you worry about acknowledging your love for ALL of them as equally as possible.  So what did I just do?  I put up a post on what I was grateful for in 2011 without including a great-nephew born in 2011.  My sister alerted me of the oversight -- I fixed it.  Then my brother, Tim, came by and jokingly complained that other brothers pictured in the collage had "bigger" pictures than his.  My sister, justifiably, noted that I had not posted a picture photoshopped by a colleague that included a few members of the family who could not make it last year.

If you don't know my siblings, including my "favorite" sister, please know that they are doing this in good fun.  This is along the lines of "no good deed goes unpunished."  So I'm putting up the photoshopped picture.  It differs from the others in the following ways:

1) You can see my sister, Karen, peering in the window from the outside along with her daughter, Courtney.  They live in Miami and do not come home for Christmas.
2) Karen's son, Michael, is photshopped into the middle of the picture.
3) My nephew, Brian, married Shannon last May.  She is pictured in the wedding dress.
4) My nephew, Greg, who was there for Christmas but missed Christmas Eve has also been added.
5) My great-nephew, Ben, who was not yet born at Christmas has been added as a "thought" above the picture.
6) My sister's colleague, who did all of this wonderful work for us, took the liberty of photoshopping President Obama into a picture on my brother's wall.  You would not have found that picture on my brother's wall -- perhaps on mine.

So now, I'm finished! Ted and Sally, Tim and Dusty, Karen and Bill and I have not mailed out Christmas cards, so I couldn't put them in.  Mark, who's Christmas cards the past couple of years have been a masterpiece, tweeted that his were mailed yesterday.  So I think I've included everyone.  If not, I'll help you start a blog so you can tell everyone all about it. 

With love, truly, to all of my wonderful family.  BTW -- one kid is so much easier!

Kath

P.S.  I am really grateful to have everyone in the picture.  Just don't email me that someone in the picture is more visible than you. 

Why I'm Grateful This Christmas

As the Jones extended family prepares for Christmas 2011, I want to followup on the theme of gratefulness.  There have been some changes in the family during this past year.  My nephew, Chris, and his wife Sarah, added twin girls to the family.  Isabel and Violet are the first set of twins in the family since Harry and Joseph Vonderheide born 150 years ago.  I've yet to meet my newest nieces, as they live out-of-state.  But I can tell you that their grandparents couldn't be happier.

Dan and Carol holding Violet, Quentin and Isabel

My daughter, Liz and her husband, Roland will be adding a son to their family in the next two months.  Since I'm already the grandmother of the perfect grandson, Ian, I'm very much looking forward to this.

My brother, Tim, was diagnosed with a malignant tumor in his kidney.  He underwent successful surgery to remove his kidney.  Tests showed that the tumor was self-contained and he didn't even require chemotherapy.

Tessa, Haley and Sky

My nieces, Tessa and Haley, are attending a Cotillion given by the Bachelors here in Cincinnati.  It is a Christmas Ball for debutantes. 

Ian and Bill

My husband, Bill, continues to amaze everyone, as he is still with us after two triple-bypass surgeries and multiple heart attacks over the past 35 years.  We look forward to celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary on January 1st.

In a family this size, I could continue this list and inevitably leave out some important things -- so I'm going to quit now.  What's important is that we are all here, love each other and are forever grateful to the parents who raised us.  If there is any sadness, it is the fact that they died too young to see all of the fruits that have resulted from their labors.

Finally, I want to thank my brother, Tom, for his willingness to share his Christmas letters with all of us.  Posting them every couple of days allowed me the chance to slow down, think about what is important in my life, and prepare me, as Advent should, for the true meaning of Christmas.

Just a few extra pictures --

Quentin and Santa Don

Mae

Mae and John

My sister, Karen, just contacted me and let me know that I forgot to mention Ben -- a son born to Mark and Carol during this past year.  He is the grandson of my brother, Tom (Guest Blogger), and I didn't realize that Ben was not in any of the pictures in that series, including the family picture Mark sent me.  Mark promises to get a family picture together soon.  So for now, here is one of Mark and Ben.

Mark and Ben

Merry Christmas to everyone from Jones Family Matters.

Kathy

We Are Grateful!

This is the final post written by my brother, Tom.  This particular post was written ten years ago, but I decided to publish it last.  It just seemed to be a good way to finish up this series.  The message is one of "gratefulness."  As 2011 comes to an end, I am grateful!  Thank you so much for reading and commenting on these posts throughout December.  I join with my brother in wishing all of you a blessed and Merry Christmas.

The Jones Family (minus the Munis), Christmas, 2010

2000 years ago the angels appeared to the shepherds in the Bethlehem hills and declared, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior who is Christ the Lord." Well the world has not been the same since.  We all celebrate Christmas in our own way and with our own reverence to God our creator.  Although we are different in our celebration, there is a thread that is common to all.  The Holiday Season is a time to reflect on our blessings, enjoy family friends and food. 

God has blessed all of us with special gifts and all too often it is easy to take for granted those that we have.  I can remember my grandfather telling me the greatest gift one can have is their family.  Well, I was one of seven children with five of them younger than I was. Frankly, I just didn’t understand that comment.  Another elderly family member would explain to us that our health was more precious than any gift we could have.  Well, as a youngster, I had caught a cold and even the flu once or twice but I just didn’t see health as that big a deal!  The minister would tell us our greatest gift was world peace, but what did that mean?  And of course, we would be reminded of the gift of being born in America, yet everyone I knew had that gift.

Today the youthful innocence of years passed seems to be a lifetime ago, but I look back fondly on those memories.  Now I am the one who stands in the gap at the head of our family, as my grandparents and parents have long ago passed.  Although I consider myself to be young at 51 years  (now 61) I can tell you that this holiday season I will be grateful for my family, health and the freedom afforded by these United States of America.  And for me, a savior who is Christ the Lord.  I hope I never again take these gifts for granted.

Do You Believe This?

This is the tenth in a series of Christmas posts written by my brother, Tom.  Pictured is his granddaughter, Savannah, and our youngest brother, Santa Don.

Savannah and Santa

One morning, my 4 year old granddaughter (with as much seriousness as she could muster) asked her father, "Dad is Santa Claus real?  I want to know.  Tell me the truth!"  Her first clue came because she had recently returned from multiple Christmas events where Santa had appeared in one form or another.  These events included a gala at my brother's home where the Santa looked suspiciously like my youngest brother.  As she sat on his lap she mentioned that his beard looked fake.  Although age four and a half seemed a little young to break the traditional story line, her persistence demanded that he come clean.

Instead of being disappointed, she instantly became an arbiter of all truth.  Immediately she saw through the Tooth Fairy, Easter bunny and her Fairy Godmother.  One afternoon, shortly thereafter, while I was walking with her through our backyard “secret forest trail” where the elves had constructed a wreath and hung it on an old fence post,  I pointed out the withering vine-covered wreath and reminded her that it was made by elves.  She promptly informed me “Papa, I really know you made the wreath." That quickly, we were all adults. Where did the childlike fantasy go?

In 1897 Virginia O’Hanlon wrote to the New York Sun to ask the truth about Santa Clause. Her letter was a sincere plea for the facts.  I wished our response could have been as clever:

Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist… The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see… Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

God’s gift that we celebrate this Christmas season is his Son.  God’s Son during his public life made a statement to a grieving woman. Then he asked her,“Do you believe this?”  I think this question is just a valid today in our questioning and doubting world.  This holiday season I ask that you share this verse with your friends and family. It is the reason for our hope.

John 11: 25-26

This Time I Won't Cry

With a week to go before Christmas, I am filled with anticipation of our annual family gathering.  My brother, Tom, and his wife, Linda, will once again be hosting it.  But according to the Turner Schedule, we will be missing many of our children and grandchildren as they were here on Thanksgiving.  Enjoy this ninth post in our series of Christmas posts.

In the Book of James we are told “our lives are like a mist that appears for a while and then vanishes”.  When I think of those who have passed before us over the steady beat of time it is easy to understand the truth of that verse.  As Christmas approaches each of us observe family traditions, look back over fond memories and forward to the day.  Christmas is a marker every year helping us to reflect on our “time in the mist”. 

              

Ask 10 people what traditions they remember as the special day approaches and you will get 20 different answers.  There’s the trip to the country to cut your own Christmas tree, baking cookies, shopping downtown with lunch at the quaint diner. Others wryly admit that their tradition usually involves being stuck in traffic or at the airport traveling home.  Regardless of the answer, it always seems to amaze everyone how quickly yet another year has vanished.

The Waltons

Christmas Vacation

It's a Wonderful Life

One of my favorite traditions is watching the TV classics that have become mandatory viewing at the Jones household each season.  Whether it is Chevy Chase in “Christmas Vacation” or The Waltons “Homecoming” or the 1946 Classic “It’s a Wonderful Life," these shows are a part of our annual tradition.  Each time I watch Chevy Chase begin his shenanigans with the house and tree decorations, I say "I’m not going to laugh."  But sure enough -- when the squirrel jumps out of the tree and the resulting slapstick turmoil destroys the house, I am beside myself with laughter.  Jimmy Stewart in “It’s a Wonderful Life” has to be my favorite.  When we see how George Bailey has influenced the little town of Bedford Falls through his life and how his friends come through for him, I cry, even though I’ve told myself, “This time I won’t cry.”

On Christmas day, as our family gathers around the table to celebrate our traditions and thank our creator for our blessings, I will pause to think of my family and yours and how grateful I am for all of you. But this time I won’t cry.

Hold You Papa?

This is the eighth in a series of Christmas posts written by my brother, Tom.

I was stunned! My granddaughter asked if she could hold ME.  Just that quickly I was transported back half a lifetime remembering my own kids asking the same question.  We would frequently ask our kids, “Do you want me to “hold you”?  It just seemed natural for them to ask “hold you” when they wanted to be held. How many of these phrases have we all heard while raising our kids and now grandkids? Most are lost to time.  I wonder what I said to my parents and them to theirs.

We all have fond memories of mispronounced words and backward phrases that seem to come out of nowhere at just the perfect time to humorously cut the fog of everyday life.  They bring a smile to our faces and sometimes become a part of the families’ exclusive lingo.  Here are a few of ours that we have kept through the years and turn heads when outsiders hear them.

One early morning while my daughter’s curls were all over the place, she exclaimed, “My face is in my face.”  Also, “The bright’s awful sun today.” And my kids' favorite while listening to long rambling stories… “Get to the dot, Dad!”  Some innocent questions become too real and bring a tear when you realize how quickly time moves. “Dad, when I grow up do I have to live in Cincinnati?” 

Christmas brings other memories with almost every ornament rediscovered in the musty box safely stowed since last year.  Ornaments made in kindergarten with the painted name of a favorite childhood dog or cat or ornaments given by special friends and family who have passed on.  Even the storage boxes used for decades from that favorite must have game or toy, now long gone.  All of these deliver a flood of fond memories.

The Scripture tells us that Mary the mother of Jesus “treasured all of these things, pondering them in her heart”.  I think at times we make statements that our heavenly Father finds amusing like, "Hold You PaPa?"   Michelangelo in his famous painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel may have depicted it best.  The portrait shows Adam casually reaching to touch the finger of God, but what we may not always notice is God’s response to his child.  God is leaning over at his fullest extent with angels holding him to keep him from falling!  Quickly we see who is more interested in whom.  In the Christmas season we celebrate God reaching for us.  It is demonstrated in our Father’s greatest gift ...“Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.”  Isaiah 7:14.                                 

Won't Be Home for Christmas

This is the seventh in a series of posts written by my brother, Tom.  His son, Mark, and Mark's wife, Carol, are indirectly responsible for the "Turner Schedule"  becoming the new "rule" as our children start their own families.

Christmas at the Jones household is straight out of the Hallmark Hall of Fame rule book.  This is the way it has been since I was a child, and the traditions have carried forward to my children, now grown.  Regardless of circumstances, heroic efforts must be made to arrive smiling with grandchildren and presents at the appointed time. 

Mark, Savannah and Carol (Turner) Jones
Mark is the son of the author, my brother, Tom

You can imagine my dismay when one year I was told that two of our three children were going to go on the “Turner schedule”.  The “Turner schedule”, what’s that? I protested.  “Its simple Dad” explained my son.  “It is named after my wife’s family, and they alternate every other Thanksgiving and Christmas with their in-laws.  All the kids and in-laws maintain the same schedule, that way we don’t have to spend half the day on the road and we can relax and enjoy each others' company for the day.”  My daughter, that year having spent hours of delay in a massive snow storm trying to arrive home for Christmas, loved the idea and immediately signed up for the same plan with her husband’s family.  (Note: the grandchildren would be on the same schedule as their parents!)

I knew that the rules had changed and that Christmas, my favorite time of year, was going to be very quiet every other year.  My wife assured me that things would be OK, and besides we could celebrate Christmas as a family on a convenient weekend anytime in December or even January.  I recognize right from wrong…and this was wrong!

That following Christmas, our family scheduled an early December weekend for our own celebration and to my obstinate surprise the day was exceptional.  All of the traditions were observed yet there was a surprising lack of hurry and hustle to the day.  No one had to rush off to another commitment, no re-arranging the day to watch a particular football game, nothing; just conversation, food, family and enjoying the grandchildren as they played with their toys. 

Well I have successfully survived several years of the “Turner schedule” and recently learned that over 100 connected family members have adopted the same schedule.  I have to admit that I now prefer the off years.

I’ve also been reminded that another family was not home for Christmas but stranded in a stable nearly 2000 years ago.  In those days Ceasar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.  And everyone went to his own town to register.

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazarath in Galilee, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.  He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.  While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son.  She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

This Christmas, we will celebrate with you the birth of the Savior.  Regardless of what day or where you are, we can all focus on the things that are eternally important.

Wood Block Credit: http://www.ghgcollectibles.com

Great Joy!

This, the sixth in a series of posts written by my brother, Tom, celebrates a special Christmas gift. I remember it well as I was a recipient of a similar gift. It is the Christmas I will never forget.

Photo Credit:  http://www.millards.org

As a kid, I always felt sorry for my older cousins at Christmas time.  They were about 15 years older than our family of kids and when we visited during the holidays, all they had under their tree were boxes of shirts, ties, sweaters and skirts!  How could Christmas be fun for them?  Also, to my complete horror Santa would usually come to their home after dinner on Christmas Eve while they were out for a short ride.  “This way we can sleep in on Christmas morning” they would explain. Our family was in strict observance of “the rules” clearly detailed in 'Twas the Night before Christmas.

One Christmas, I was assured that Santa was going to bring me a new bicycle.  All of my neighborhood friends had cool bikes and we rode them everywhere.  My bicycle was a hand-me- down from one of my older cousins and the “cool” style had changed so drastically that I was in danger of losing status with my friends.  As Christmas week approached, I scoured all the usual hiding places but there was no sign of my new bicycle.  There was no way for me to glimpse this bicycle before Christmas morning and I was making myself sick with anticipation.

I developed a plan and got to work on the details.  I would get up at 2:00 AM Christmas morning and creep downstairs for an early peak.  I purchased new batteries for my flashlight and set out to buy an alarm clock!  Since mom always woke the five boys in our dormitory like bedroom each morning the only alarm clock in the house was next to her bed.  I found a clock at a local store and went to the bank to withdraw the $4.25 needed.  I had carefully saved my birthday and allowance money over the years and had nearly $25 in my savings account, this purchase was worth tapping those sacred funds.

On Christmas Eve, I carefully set the alarm and placed it under my pillow.  I knew that if the alarm woke my four brothers I would be in huge trouble so I was careful to conceal it.  On Christmas morning, as the sun came shining through our bedroom window, my little brothers woke me and told me to hurry downstairs, Santa had come, hurry up!  What?  I pulled the alarm clock from under my pillow and inspected it carefully.  I realized that through the night the weight of my head on the pillow must have accidentally pushed in the stop button....or hmm…could mom have foiled my secret plan? Regardless, I shot down the stairs consuming four steps at a time only to be the last to arrive.  My new bicycle gleamed in front of the tree, along with piles of other presents. What joy my parents had to see the look on my face as I saw the gift for the first time.  This was one of the best Christmas mornings of my childhood.  Later I was told that Grandpa had hidden the bicycle in his basement and brought it over after we had gone to bed.

This Christmas, I will be happy with a shirt and a sweater, I will also be thrilled to watch my grandchildren open their gifts.  Along with you, I will also remember the first Christmas when there were shepherds staying in the fields nearby, guarding their flocks of sheep.  Suddenly, an angel of the Lord appeared among them, and the radiance of the Lord’s glory surrounded them. They were terrified, but the angel reassured them. “Don’t be afraid!” he said. “I bring you good news that will bring great joy to all people. The Savior—yes, the Messiah, the Lord—has been born today in Bethlehem, the city of David!” 

On a personal note, I rememer that Christmas well.  I also got a bike that Christmas.  I remember that it was a cold Christmas morning, but Tom and I did not care.  We were outside riding our bikes on "The Court" with great abandon.  It's amazing how little I remember of Christmas gifts past -- but not that Christmas!

Santa Baby?

This is the fifth in a series of Christmas posts written by my brother, Tom.  Enjoy.

I have always had a soft spot for holiday music and often tune into the local radio station that begins playing holiday tunes in mid November non-stop through December.  It never fails to put me into the right holiday spirit.  One evening as I drove home in the early dusk that is a part of our cold wet Decembers, the song The Christmas Shoes came on the radio. It was the first time this season I had heard it.  As the music played, I listened intently:

“Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, please

 It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size

 Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there’s not much time

You see she’s been sick for quite a while

And I know these shoes would make her smile

And I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight.”

Well, every sentimental emotion in my soul welled up. The sweet selfless innocence of the little boy, thoughts of my childhood, memories of my mother, now passed remembrances of my cousins who had lost their mother in childhood.  All of these memories came flooding in an instant.  I was still dabbing my tears when the next tune that filled the silence was Santa Baby by Madonna.  In a “Betty Boop” breathless voice I hear:

“Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me

 I’ve been an awful good girl

 Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight.”

I was simply not prepared for the contrast of those two tunes and felt emotionally dizzy.  I needed a Bing Crosby version of White Christmas or Silver Bells to softly set me back into reality. 

As I thought about the range of emotions so many of us feel during the holiday season, it occurred to me that the extremes in those tunes are not much different than life, with one interesting note, who the focus is on.  Rick Warren’s best selling book The Purpose Driven Life opens with the sentence, “It’s not about you.”  A long time has passed since I first experienced the selfless joy of giving a Christmas gift to another.  I remember saving my pennies or working for days preparing a home- made gift that only a mother could love, but real joy came in giving. 

But think about it.  At Christmas, it is about you! The angels declared that unto us a child is born, unto us a child is given. And God declared that he loved the world so much that he gave is one and only son.  At Christmas we remember that God has given an eternal gift to us. 

Photo Credit:  red shoe - superweddingshoes.com
Photo Credit: silver bells - 123rf.com
Photo Credit:  Nativity Scene - almightydad.com
Link to youtube video of Madonna singing Santa Baby http://youtu.be/5ycWObpi73Y
Link to you tube video of Bing Crosby's White Christmas http://youtu.be/tRYPWlyU_Zk

Stealing Christmas

This is the fourth in a series of posts written by my brother, Tom, in celebration of Christmas.  I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Christmas Dinner
Great-Grandpa, August Vonderheide, is at the head of the table.

Christmas Eve was always celebrated at my grandparents' house. They were rich, so we thought. We didn't realize that after a lifetime of raising children through the depression and the war, they were really "empty nesters" and for the first time in their lives they actually had some disposable income. My grandparents had 25 grandchildren who all arrived within the space of about 12 years. So when you added in parents and a few guests, about 40 of us would sit down to a Christmas banquet all at one long table in their finished basement. Grandpa sat at one end and Grandma at the other.

Grandpa's Sleigh

Grandpa was a lifetime subscriber to Popular Mechanics and his hobby was building stuff in his expansive workshop. Everything that Grandpa built was big, heavy-duty and slightly ahead of it's time.  By the time I was 10, Grandpa had built an outdoor Chirstmas display that was life-size and clearly over the top. The older cousins with our Dads would arrive on site just after Thanksgiving to begin unpacking and assembling the displays that filled most of the front and side yard of their corner lot. Music was piped outdoors from the elaborate stereo phonograph player inside the house, and visitors could view illuminated displays of Charles Dickens era carolers to Santa's sleigh and reindeer packed with presents to the manger scene under a full-sized stable.

The grandchildren in Grandpa's Manger

One day someone stole that baby Jesus right out of his crib ten days before Christmas! Not one to be outsmarted, Grandpa went to work and constructed a pressure-sensitive alarm linked to the floor boards of the stable around the crib. The alarm was then wired to the outdoor speakers, Popular Mechanics to the rescue once again. Anyone who would set foot within the stable would activate the alarm and be quickly caught. I am sure Grandpa went to sleep that night with the smug satisfaction that the new baby Jesus was well-protected.

In a simpler time before car alarms and home security sirens, in the soft quiet of a snowy December night, I am sure the neighborhood for several blocks in all directions awoke with a start when the wet and drifting snow piled into the stable and activated the loud speaker sirens at 3:00 AM.  Suffice it to say that even the fire department responded.

My grandparents have long passed, but their 25 grandchildren all live with families and traditions of their own.  We are all grateful for the fond Christmas memories and the love that they showed each one of us.  One of my favorite memories will always be Grandpa's determination to keep Christ in Christmas.