I just got back from the Christmas Eve service at the Lynnwood United Methodist Church in Pleasanton. I've been missing my father a lot lately and I realized that going to the service tonight was a way to honor him. It felt good to be there, among the community. Even if I'm not a part of it (the only other time I've been there was Christmas Eve two years ago).
When I was real little, we never went to church on Christmas Eve or Christmas - Mormons don't do that. When I was a teenager we often went to the Christmas Eve service at the United Methodist Church in Sandy Hook. Even my father would come with us (the only time he'd go to that church). In high school once I remember going to Midnight Mass with Erik and Michele and Charlie. But as I got older, we stopped going. The day became so busy with working or catching up from working so much, going to church was just another stressful thing to do.
It felt good to participate in an activity from my youth. The prayers, the songs, the readings were all like I remember. There's a comfort in that.
Merry Christmas Dad.
