Bryan started our phone conversation with “I don’t want you two to be downhearted” (yes, he used those exact words!). I said “not again”! to myself silently as Bryan went into a lengthy explanation as to why he wouldn’t be with us for Christmas this year. He didn’t make Thanksgiving either because he had Covid for the first time. Now what? His roommate said it was the flu. Bryan methodically ticked off the symptoms he was (or would?) be experiencing if this developed the same as his roommate’s sickness. It was hard to discern what he was actually feeling from what he was told he would be feeling. Judging from the hoarseness and coughing, though, I worried that he would miss two of his favorite holidays in a row.

After hanging up, I lost it. Christmas is Bryan’s favorite day of the year. We had plans to pick him up that next day to help him wrap his presents, worship in the morning and evening together on December 24th, and spend the next several days under the same roof as he has done for 42 years. It took me a day to get over the disappointment. 

We were to have been together for a special December 24th dinner and present opening at his sister’s house – meeting his new nephew for the first time. Put that on the back burner. His aunt, uncle and cousins called on the 24th to say they were sick and couldn’t come for Christmas dinner. What to do with the ingredients for the feast? The pies were made, the turkey waiting to be dressed, the side dishes already underway.

I texted him the link to our church’s service. He wanted to tune in to hear my solo in the morning and the lessons and carols service at night. I didn’t think it would happen, but when he told me he tuned in to both, I lost it again. Well, it was kind of like worshipping together, I guess. 

We took each day as it came, assessing how he was feeling with each passing 24 hours. The decision was finally made that we would pick Bryan up early on Christmas morning if he was feeling alright, bringing him to our house to open gifts, feasting together and watching his beloved, though lackluster Eagles play the Giants. The only caveat – masks had to be worn by the three of us all day unless eating together.   

And that’s what we did. I knew he wasn’t feeling well when the eggs, bacon and sticky buns were barely touched. Lukewarm enthusiasm for the gifts was another indicator that he didn’t feel well. And when he put himself to bed for a nap, I knew he was listening to what his body was telling him it needed – rest. 

Yet, when he lifted his glass at turkey dinner time and whispered a prayer “Thank you, Good Lord, for letting me be here with my mask “, I knew it was the right thing to do to have him with us. His appetite improved as the day went on.

After dinner we went down to the basement to watch the Eagles game. It was bedecked with green and silver pom poms, keychains, a green beaded tie, Eagles hats – Bryan had brought all manner of bling to decorate our TV area for this critical game. Fortunately the Eagles squeaked one out over the Giants. 

It was a good ending to a tenuous Christmas day. But MY Christmas wish did come true – Bryan was able to be with us on this special day. And we actually did kind-of worship together in person. We spent the morning listening to a rebroadcast of the service of Nine Lessons and Carols from Kings College Cambridge, an annual tradition we all cherish. As Bryan stood in front of the stereo conducting the familiar Sir David Willcocks brass and timpani arrangements of “O Come All Ye Faithful” and “Hark the Herald Angels” sing, I knew he was feeling what was in my heart as well – how blessed to be together to share in the celebration of Jesus’ birth!