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Christmas is more than just bows and ribbons; it’s the season of eternal hope

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By Jeff Kirby, Contributing Writer 12:26 PM Wednesday, December 23, 2009

There is a gift I’ll cherish this holiday season.

If you’ve ever lost a loved one, I invite you to share it with me.

It’s not a set of golf clubs or a new tie, though those gifts from my family are wonderful. Instead, the gift is one of comfort. I’ll think of the moment just before my dad passed away, when our family was huddled around his hospital bed, knowing the end was near.

There was a feeling of incredible loss, because he was such a good man. But there was something else, too. Where was his spirit? Just where does a person go after they die?

I think of that now, on Christmas Eve, because this holiday celebrates, among other things, the faith that life doesn’t end when we take our last breath.

Let me get all spiritual for a second. If the birth of a baby 2,000 years ago is true — as is evidenced by the changing of the calendar (B.C. to A.D.) and the belief of billions since — then we really don’t lose our loved ones when they die. Instead, we just say goodbye to them for a while.

Though I no longer go to lunch with my dad, or consult with him about my cases, the reality is he’s never been more alive than he is right now. He just moved from this world to the next ahead of me. That thought is the gift of Christmas. The birth of a baby means the rebirth for you and me and the ones we love.

Here’s what I think happens to each of us on our death bed.

Just after our lives flash before our eyes, as we’ve all heard is the case, I think we get a glimpse of the world we’re about to enter, one that is far more amazing than we can ever imagine — one of incredible peace and perfect love, where we are reunited with all of our loved ones.

In that respect, it’s the land of dreams. I imagine my dad flying F-16s across the Pacific Ocean. It’s where I’ll become a member of the Big Red Machine, and my wife and daughter will find a never-ending shopping mall. As great as all this sounds, it’ll be even better.

I also think we get a glimpse into the future, where we find out that those who depend on us will be okay. In my dad’s case, I think he got to see the future scrapbooks of my mom, each of us kids and the grandchildren, too.

“See Tom,” he was told, the pages flipping in front of him, “they’re all going to be okay. You can go now.”

So, in that respect, Dad was like a kid who’d just been handed an eternal pass to Disney World, his favorite place on earth. Obviously, he wanted to go — who wouldn’t? It would be selfish to keep him here.

I think we’re reminded that we’re all children, regardless of our age, and there are aspects to this world we could not possibly understand.

Ever heard a 6-year-old correct you that she’s actually 6-and-a-half? We adults know there’s very little difference. A child of either age doesn’t understand what an adult does. But I think we’re all 6 years old, spiritually speaking. There’s so much we don’t know.

I think we get to our death bed and are told, “Oh, so you’re 73-and-a-half, huh? Here, let me have you talk to Moses over here for a while. Compared to what he knows, there’s little difference between that and 73.”

This season is more than just bows and ribbons and crowded mall parking lots. It’s a season of hope, and of celebration of the life we can have forever, if only we’ll humble ourselves enough to believe it.

Look out your window tonight. That won’t be Santa you see flying across the moon. It’ll be my dad in an F-16.

Jeff Kirby is a lawyer, writer in Springboro. he can be reached at jeffkirby@aol.com

making the case JEFF KIRBY

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