It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

It came upon a midnight clear,
that glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
to touch their harps of gold.
"Peace on the earth, good will to men,"
from Heaven's all gracious King.
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

How we loved sharing this time of year together, Loren and I and the rest of the family. We had so many wonderful gatherings from the time we were young children in Rochester, New York. The traditions continued into our adulthoods, with our own children, and now with their children. We all shared as many Christmases together as we could, in Rochester, in Toledo, in Tallahasee, in St. Petersburg, in DC, and in between.

Loren inherited mom's make-believe tree, and he always had it ready to take out and light up. In fact, he brought it out early and kept it up late. I think it was because it held so many warm memories for him. Loren held on to the things that comforted him, sustained him. I understand it so much better now. I wish I could say it to him. We'd remind him that it was April and his Christmas tree was still up. "Yeah, I'll get to it" He did in his own time. I understand it now.

Loren didn't like the commercialism, but he loved the traditions, the spirit, the music. He had a good voice and sang Christmas carols, just like my dad. He loved the candles and the lights. My brother was a romantic at heart. He listened to love songs--Elton John, Paul McCartney, Nat King Cole, Andrea Bocelli. I pray he's found his true love wherever he is. How lucky that person will be.

I liked giving him gifts at Christmas, mostly books, or a subscription to the National Geographic, a membership to the Smithsonian, National Museum of the American Indian, or one of his favorite environmental groups. Loren usually gave little presents he had bought at the gift shops of one of his charities; St. Marks was a favorite. His gifts were precious, because they came from the heart.

This year I’m giving Loren the ancient sights and sounds and mysteries of Egypt. I know how much they mean to him. If the Age of Gold, the age of peace foretold by prophets, is coming round, it might well begin in Egypt, the ancient cradle of civilization. “You can tell me all about it, Loren. We can share our lives again. We can touch our souls there. See you in Egypt.”

For lo, the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When, with the ever-circling years,
Shall come the Age of Gold.
When peace shall over all the earth
it's ancient splendors fling,
And all the world give back the song
which now the angels sing.