Johnson Family Newsletter

Volume XXXI

504 Richard St, Union SC 29379

Christmas…ahh! Andy Williams was right—it’s the most wonderful time of the year. Of course, not everyone shares that sentiment. For some, the holidays remind them of loved ones lost or family members from whom they’re separated. For others, there’s the added stress associated with decorating, family gatherings, ice storms, and traffic congestion. For still others, there’s the unbridled commercialism—the emphasis on “stuff” rather than faith and family. For a few, there’s the fear of opening their largest present and having it be fruitcake. May you never be the giver of said cake.

Despite all those negatives, Christmas is still special to me. One of the benefits of growing older is you begin to stockpile Christmas memories. (Downsides: random body hair, skin tags, colonoscopies, hot flashes and indigestion.) If I were to ever downplay or disparage Christmas, I suspect the Ghost of Christmas Past (think Harry Potter’s Albus Dumbledore with wings) would pay me a visit and lead me on a trip down memory lane…

• Our first stop…1991…Nathan, my nephew, wants nothing but the highly popular nerf bow & arrow. My mom dispatches the entire family across 4 states to find one for her precious grandson. After searching a dozen stores, Janet finds the coveted toy, thus saving Nathan’s view of Santa’s ability to work a miracle. (The following year, young Nathan wanted nothing but D batteries because “they make everything go.” Can’t argue with that logic.)
• Albus takes me to the next scene. I’m setting up yet another freshly cut Christmas tree with Dad. Our sap-covered hands use screws, cardboard, and coasters to eventually make the tree look semi-level. Then Mom insists we spin it to hide the bare side and we start the leveling process all over again. Dad sighs and I hand him a cup of eggnog.

• The scene shifts to a living room in South Carolina. The extended Climer clan has gathered for another “white elephant” gift exchange…with all the gifts coming from the local thrift store (this is what you do with a group that doesn’t need or want anything specific). I realize the 1980 Jane Fonda workout VHS I just opened will not be stolen. It’s what is known as “a keeper.” Another “keeper” is the used, sexy nightie MawMaw just opened. Her smile is not nearly as big as Papa’s.

• Albus and I arrive at my late grandmother’s Punta Gorda, Florida neighborhood. It’s 1986 and Nanny is leading us on a caroling adventure up and down the streets near her home. At nearly every home, the lights turn off at our first note of Silent Night. We grimace as Nanny bangs on the door until someone answers. “Ethel, I know you’re in there!” I feel Ethel’s pain.

• An instant later, Mr. Dumbledore and I hover over an annual living room ritual. Nanny and I are “sumo wrestling” in the middle of the carpet, as the rest of the family encircles us and cheers us on. A few bets are placed—I’m a 20-1 underdog again. Despite similar, formidable girths, she has far better technique. I think she wrestled in high school. Nanny uses her voluptuous assets to pinch my torso like a bull ant’s mandibles clutching a rival ant’s larvae. As I’m helplessly driven to the edge of the carpet in defeat, I reach down and grab her butt cheeks as someone snaps a picture. I’m defeated, but shamelessly thrilled nonetheless. “I’ll get her next year.”

• We travel across the giant pond to the land of bratwurst and sauerkraut. It’s 2002 and I’m assembling yet another “some assembly required” Santa gift the night before Christmas. It’s 1 a.m. and the foosball table instructions are in German. I’ve been at it for two hours. A few of the men end up standing on their heads, rendering them ineffective. They feel the scorn of their teammates as they try in vain to pass the just-out-of-reach ball with their foreheads. “My goalie’s upside down, Dad,” young Jason complains the following morning. “Take it up with Santa, son!”
• Suddenly, it’s 2003. My extended family has come to Europe and we’re all staying at a quaint, snow-covered lodge in Austria. The locals are reading about the birth of Jesus in German at our lodge’s restaurant. As the story moves into its second hour, I curl up on a restaurant bench and fall asleep. I’m tired, don’t speak German, and know how the story ends.

• The next day, we’re sledding down a steep, winding road with a snow bank at the end. Dad plows head first into the bank at full-speed and staggers to his feet, looking like the Abominable Snowman. “Brakes are for sissies.”
• We visit Germany’s ancient walled city of Rothenburg and do the Nightwatchman’s Tour. As we walk the ancient walls, snow begins to fall. I feel like I’m in a scene from a Hallmark Christmas movie. Maybe Janet will kiss me at the end of this scene.
• Suddenly, we’re on a tram climbing Zugspitze, the largest mountain in Germany, along the German-Austrian border. It’s bitterly cold at the summit and we look down on the ski slopes below. Later, as we exit the tram, the Austrian operator says “Auf Wiedersehen“ to which my brother-in-law, Daniel, replies, “wie treu sind deine Blätter” which translates “how lovely are your needles.” The operator looks puzzled. He should be.

• Albus takes me to Nuremberg. We’re about to visit Christkindlesmarkt, the world’s biggest and best Christmas market. In the hotel lobby, Jason suddenly becomes ill and is rushed to the bathroom. He doesn’t make it and vomits on the bathroom door. “Housecleaning!” As Janet attends to him, Kyle and I head for the market, where we split a meter-long bratwurst, devouring it from both ends.

• The scene shifts to my parents’ home. I hear the ringing of Christmas bells. I’m not sure of the year because each year, Mom rang a special set of bells early Christmas morning, announcing, “He came! Santa came!” The sleepy-eyed children line the stairwell, waiting for the green light to rush downstairs to open their presents. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear Mom ring those bells one more time.

 

• We move downstairs, and Dad’s magical Christmas Snow Village is lining various pieces of furniture across two rooms. Each year, his wondrous neighborhood grows with the addition of a snow-covered corner store or gas station. These days it sits in his attic…and that makes me a little sad.

• “Albus, is that food I smell?” The food. Ahh, the food! Mom and her helpers delivered every year. Pork tenderloin. Prime rib. Mashed potatoes and gravy. “The fried okra is for Steve, but you all can try it,” Mom would say, reinforcing my sisters’ belief that I was the favorite. Mom knows fried okra is my love language. Eventually, Kyle shares a line from one of our favorite family movies, “This corn is an angel.” As we eat, we each get to share something we are thankful for. From where I sit, there are so many options.

Next up, the Ghost of Christmas Present (think Samuel L. Jackson in a black derby and red and green silk scarf) leads me on a review of 2018…the “most wonderful” year we could have hoped for…

• We’re at a doctor’s office watching my Dad get the news that, thanks to God’s grace and something called “immunotherapy”, his cancer (of the groin, lungs, and brain) has disappeared! Poof! Praise God! He’s still going strong at 82…and we’re thankful for every additional day of life that God has granted him.

• Samuel flies me over the scene of our RV journeys this year. I pinch myself because I’m living the life I’ve always dreamed of…traveling by RV, serving people along the way, and writing and publishing books. We fly over the location of our 2018 sojourns in Florida, North Carolina, South Carolina, & Tennessee…and a disaster relief zone in Panama City. I’m reminded of the incredible, God-loving people we’ve met and served with along the way.
• Mr. Jackson takes me to the front of a church auditorium. I’m talking to an audience about my Appalachian Trail thru-hike and how I experienced God over those 6 months. I’m reminded how blessed I am to have been able to tell the tale to two dozen churches, schools, and civic organizations around the country over the past 2 years. Maybe that was God’s plan for me and my hike all along. I glance at Mr. Jackson, who breaks my chain of thought by asking, “What’s in your wallet?”

• The scene shifts to our RV, positioned between two mountains at a campground near Maryville, TN. It’s late summer. Janet and I are on the bed, debating the use of a comma and the choice of a specific Scripture. (Not as romantic as other times in that room.) Our efforts ultimately lead to the publication of my 3^rd book, Faith in the Margins…a 365-day devotional book based on the notes in the margins from 15 family Bibles spanning 5 generations and nearly a century. Available on Amazon…hope you’ll check it out!

• Now we’re back in another church auditorium in Boiling Springs, SC. Janet is behind the podium this time, totally crushing a Ladies Day. She stands on a homemade platform I built for her so she’d be visible behind the podium. With age, she’s grown more beautiful…but certainly not taller.
• In an instant we’re hovering above a glacier. Yes, it’s our 30^thAnniversary celebration…a Land/Sea cruise to Alaska with Kyle and Laci and her family. Glaciers, sled dogs, kayaking, national parks, a train ride, a mountain hike, guides that won’t shut up, and a grizzly bear…the trip of a lifetime! On top of that, Janet is a finalist for the onboard singing competition, “Voice of the Ocean”, and gets the audience on their feet with a spirited rendition of “Dancing Queen”. You know what’s more amazing than a cruise to Alaska? Being married to someone you love…your very own Dancing Queen…for 30 years!

 

• Mr. Jackson rounds out our 2018 tour by showing me other memorable scenes…eating fish, playing cornhole, walking the beach, and hot tub soaking with Ellen & Vin (sister and brother-in-law) near Gulf Shores, AL and Seagrove Beach, FL. Walking the streets of Savannah, GA, with Sojourner buds Denton & Beth Wiggains. Eating pancakes in Gatlinburg and driving the Cades Cove loop with John & Laurie Walsh. Pontoon boating Tims Ford Lake in TN with James & Susan Bryant. Touring the Biltmore Mansion with Jason & Rachel. Dog-sitting our granddog, Pita, near St Louis. (A dog with over 5300 Instagram followers…check out her adorable posts at @pitathebichonfrise.) Driving a rental car through the night from Chicago to St Louis to get Kyle & Laci to the airport in time for their flight to Greece. All great memories, except for that last one.

Finally, the Ghost of Christmas Future (think a shirtless Patrick Swayze, riding a white stallion) gives us a ride and peek into the future…

• I see a house somewhere in the vicinity of Maryville, TN. Could it be ours? Only time will tell. I glance at Janet, and she’s running her fingers through Mr. Swayze’s flowing hair. Awkward. Should have went with Uber.
• The stallion approaches the window of our future house and we look inside. We’re in rocking chairs, holding grandchildren in our arms. I glance at the calendar on the wall…is it 2020 or maybe 2030? I can’t quite make it out. Regardless, it seems our ongoing efforts to sabotage our progeny’s birth control methods will eventually pay off. “Papa Fob, tell us the story of your dog Mandy,” little Zeke mutters. “Well, if you must know, Mandy’s dead and I made sure she ain’t coming back,” I respond. I’m gonna make a great grandpa.

• I blink my eyes and it’s Christmas time. Our future home is covered with the most magnificent Christmas Snow Village imaginable. I must have retrieved it from Dad’s attic. Zeke helps me place the new Snow Village Flattops Barbershop Quartet on a street corner. Dad would like that. Unfortunately, it’s not lit up. It seems Nathan has all the D batteries.
• Mr. Swayze and his stallion take us to Neyland Stadium. The Vols have finally beaten the Crimson Tide. I slowly raise my orange and white pom pom from my wheelchair and give it a single, feeble shake. The year is 2053. Moments later, I pass away.
• In the final scene, I see Jesus coming back! Maybe next year. Hopefully soon. Regardless of politics, climate change, North Korea, natural disasters, health concerns, or anything else that may cause you angst, God still reigns. He’s got the whole world in his hands. Don’t forget that. And he is coming back! If you take some time to reflect on that this season, it very well could be…the most wonderful time of the year.

Merry Christmas!

from

Da Johnson’s