Category: Stanglin Family (Page 6 of 25)

When the kids get married and move away, you do what you can to celebrate the holidays together. If that means combining and cramming all your Thanksgiving and Christmas traditions into one weekend, you do it. If that means softening your hard lines on the order and timing of those traditions, you do it. If it means listening to the Chipmunks Christmas album at full volume two mornings in a row – back to back – instead of relaxing with a month in between, you do it. If it means setting up and decorating the tree and pretending it’s Christmas Eve the day after Thanksgiving, you do it. If it means waking up today and feeling like it’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, so be it.

Valerie and David made the trip in from Tulsa and Carley and Collin came in from Nashville for a wonderfully truncated holiday season here in Midland. Thursday: turkey and dressing and pumpkin pie, a disappointing Cowboys win, ping-pong and pool and 99, and It’s a Wonderful Life. Friday: pancakes for breakfast, decorating the tree and the house, going out to eat, popcorn and egg nog and Dr Pepper while watching Scrooge, Christmas PJs, the Stanglin family dance and the clicking of the heels (sorry, Collin; I know Carley didn’t tell you about that), and the official reading of ‘Twas  the Night Before Christmas. Saturday: Carrie-Anne’s cinnamon rolls, followed by stockings and presents (put it on!) and the house empty by the time Michigan turned out the lights on Ohio State.

Whew!

Carrie-Anne called it Thanksmas. I’m calling it good.

Peace,

Allan

The stars shine over the earth, the stars shine over the sea;
the stars shine down from heaven, the stars shine down on me.
The stars may shine for a million years, a million years and a day;
but God and I will live and love after the stars have passed away.

My Uncle Gerald finished his race in the wee hours of yesterday morning. And he ran well. He ran very well.

It was unexpected. A complete shock. He and his wife Bev of 20 months had just completed a vacation in the Texas Hill Country on Friday. I had told him about the bed and breakfast built into the old train cars on Inks Lake and reminded him about the coconut cream pie at the Bluebonnet Cafe in Marble Falls. He attended a reunion at Dallas Christian on Saturday. He stayed home from church on Sunday because of some chest pains, got checked out by paramedics, and took it easy the rest of the day. He went to sleep Sunday night in his recliner and that’s where Bev found him yesterday morning. I’m still trying to wrap my brain and my soul around the news that my Uncle Gerald is no longer among the living on earth. I keep thinking I’m going to show up at the funeral this weekend and we’re going to laugh together about how weird it was when we all got those phone calls telling us he had died.

It’s hard to think of Uncle Gerald as dead because Uncle Gerald so ferociously represents life in its fullest form. He commands every room he enters with his warmth and his joy. He genuinely loves all people. He goes out of his way to pay careful attention to folks in their 90s and to play with and be silly with little kids and babies. He encourages the awkward teenagers. He brings an inexhaustible joy to every occasion. He accepts everybody. He engages everybody. He connects everything to a song and is not bashful about singing it. He loves to joke and laugh. He has a memory like a steel trap, so he has all the stories, all the history. He is the keeper of the family traditions and the 1930 Model A pickup. He is deeply sentimental about people and things. He remembers all the birthdays. He makes up games to play and goes at it with wild abandon. All sock monkeys are named “Whooping Cough” because of Uncle Gerald.

Some of my most vivid memories of Uncle Gerald are as a kid with the whole family at Bo-Bo’s house and, of course, at their place on Foxwood. But some of my favorites are as an adult, more recently, over the past twenty years, as our relationship changed into more of a friendship. I cherish the couple of times I spent several hours with Uncle Gerald in his office at Kilgore College, listening to his stories, sharing his love for our hometown of Dallas, reminiscing about all the siblings and cousins and our shared history. Walking with him around the downtown Kilgore square, eating lunch together at that sandwich place, being introduced to his friends and co-workers with such love and pride. The phone conversations about ecumenical worship and service to others between churches, the strange relationship between church elders and preachers, and the beauty of our God’s matchless grace.

Uncle Gerald has always been my favorite uncle. Hands down. Not even close. His geographic and social proximity to us is a big part of that – we all lived in the Pleasant Grove neighborhood of southeast Dallas, we all went to the same church, we all went to Dallas Christian School, we were with Uncle Gerald and Aunt Alice all the time. But, much more than that, Uncle Gerald always knows exactly how to make you feel like you are special, that you are important, that he really loves you, and loves being with you. He demonstrates an effortless love and a relaxed grace that isn’t so easily expressed in my clan. He really stands out that way. Every single trip to East Texas to see my parents is dominated by the question: Are we going to see Uncle Gerald? When is Uncle Gerald coming over? Are we going to Uncle Gerald’s house?

You want to be in the same room with Uncle Gerald because of his love and grace. He is very much like our Lord that way.

May all of us who know Uncle Gerald remember that his love and grace and joy come from our God and reflect his eternal glory. May the Lord bless Suzanne, Jeff, Chris, Bev, my dad and mom, and our whole family with his divine comfort and peace. And may God receive his faithful servant Gerald into his loving arms.

Peace,

Allan