Holidays bring on all sorts of memories and conjure up ideals of how things "should" be. Advertisers know how to press our buttons, get us to buy things we don't need but want. Some of us feel guilt that we forgot someone or think we don't have the money to buy a gift or are too busy to send out cards or have a party. Then there's the Norman Rockwell picture perfect family…
The truth of course is, none of these things matter in the long run. 
I was thinking today about a Christmas past that I will never forget. It started all started years ago in the month of June when my husband John was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor.
He had complained of a headache and when the usual treatments did not help – we took the next step. Brain surgery happened almost instantly after the tumor was discovered – and the prognosis was not good. His surgeon said he would have about 4 months to live and if the tumor came back there would be no more surgeries.
Brain tumors are like living with a time bomb in your head. And when the tumor grew back in December, the doctors changed their minds on another surgery. There was a new treatment program taking place at the UC Medical Center in San Francisco and IF they could get most of the tumor the second go round then John had a chance to be a part of the new protocol.
This was good news! And so surgery #2 that was never supposed to happen was scheduled right before Christmas.
Our children were young, aged 6 and 7. I wanted to make sure they did all the traditional things we did as a family. I wanted to have as "normal" a Christmas as we possibly could whether Daddy was at home or in the hospital. I was trying so hard not to miss a beat and still take care of everyone knowing we were all under tremendous stress. And I vividly remember decorating the tree, getting it just right when the whole thing fell over smashing ornaments into smitherines. I was in tears.
And then we got the call – John could come home! Though it was only a day after brain surgery his doctors thought he would be better off being home with his family. In hindsight they also probably thought it would be his last.
The tree no longer mattered. I swept up the glass and drove to the hospital.
I remember us all sitting in the living room that Christmas Eve, John with a bandaged head surrounded by our children. The tree didn't matter – the gifts didn't matter – we were all together, and that's what really made that Christmas a most special memory forever. It was our Norman Rockwell moment.
Let us remember what is really important this year as we celebrate.
Wishing you a Merry Christmas and Happy Holiday filled with love!
Jane Button
P.S. And if you're wondering, that was not John's last Christmas. He beat the odds and celebrated two more with family and friends. The photo above is of the two granddaughters John never met and there is now another one on the way!
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