It was 2010. My mom had been taking care of her parents, my grandparents, for two straight years. My grandmother was living with Parkinson's Disease and my grandfather would take care of her the best he could but he had his own physical limitations. Mom would drive the four and so hours south to Central Texas from Dallas and stay for weeks - cooking, cleaning, laundry and managing medical appointments, bills and physical care filled her days.

I remember my mom saying she was honored to love and serve her parents in this way but she also described the responsibility as crushing. It was a dark time in some ways clouded with physical, emotional and financial strains and complexities that I imagine are personal and specific to caregiving. It was a true sacrifice but also one that came with moments of intimacy and beauty and light that only my mom could describe.

It is on my list to spend some time asking her more about that experience sometime. I really do admire her for it.

Just last week, I was visiting my parents. They had invited me into their house to check out the Christmas decor. My grandparents have since passed on, and my parents are now grandparents. In these much-loved roles, they spend quite a bit of time decorating their house for Christmas. Their granddaughters, my nieces, so appreciate the festiveness of the house saying things like, "Your house is so grandmotherly! We love visiting here!"

It is a sweet season. And a reminder that life keeps going, some pass on, new ones join. Sometimes it feels as though nothing has changed and other times like everything has changed. Probably a little bit of both.

Inside the house, I inquired about a nativity that I didn't recognize as part of their regular set of items. Somehow I had never noticed it.

On the back it read:

"All you need is a Manger."

From Neil, December 2010.

More than a decade ago, in the middle of her season of spending time away from us, my dad and her home, my mom simply didn't have time to decorate our house for Christmas. My brother and I were grown and working and living away from home, but I know she still felt obligated and wanted to make the house feel special for us. Neil, in his quiet way, and always the family cheerleader, picked up a simple, well-loved nativity from one of his favorite antique/stores - a shared family pastime has always been to peruse and look for "old stuff."

He dropped by one day, gently gave my mom this nativity and said, "Mom, all we need is a manger."

Who knew my younger brother had such wisdom!? I actually did. He is much sweeter than me, quietly sharing little nuggets of truth along the way. I share this, because it touched my heart, as it serves as such a good reminder.
*Whatever and however you are this Christmas season, and for those who don’t celebrate Christmas, I still offer these words and story, because it is grounding.*
*My heart tells me he might have been saying:*
*All we need is love.*
*All we need is each other.*
*All we need is God.*
*We have all we need.*
*Amen!*

This reflection was written by Emily Turner Watson and originally published in the Finding Light in the Darkness Winter reflection series for Retreat House Spirituality Center.