Have a little faith...

Confession: After last night, I am a full believer in Christmas miracles.

Boxing Day is my mother's birthday. I kinda feel sad for her, because having a Boxing Day birthday means you have to share you birthday party with J.C. and let's face it, he's kind of a big deal. He may have been born a day early, but that 12 day birthday party makes a Boxing Day birthday look kinda shabby. It doesn't help that something horrible happens every year on Boxing Day in our family.

Last night I watched my grandmother dying.

We had 25 people in my parents little house yesterday afternoon. Family came from away, wine flowed, three different birthday cakes were passed around. We try to make it a celebration of my mother and her incredible strength. For once, things went off without a hitch. The crowds eventually went home and the 'young ones' all went to my sister's house.

The hockey game was on the big screen T.V. and laughter filled the air when the phone rang. It was my mother and she immediately asked for my brother-in-law who is the only medical professional in the room. In a matter of minutes he was grabbing a medical bag and I was driving him to her house.

My grandmother had fallen down a flight of stairs. She was fading away. I prayed to God that she survive the night. Perhaps selfishly, I prayed that she not die on my mother's birthday. I'm not sure mom could handle that.

After a long wait for an ambulance and a longer wait at the hospital, a doctor finally told us she had fractured her neck. None of us are sure how she survived such a long fall and such a hard landing.

For the first time in a very long time, I thanked whoever is out there for listening. I thank them for softing her fall and saving her life. I thanked them for showing compassion to my mother.

My father and I have decided to celebrate mom's half birthday from now on. December 26th just doesn't seem to be a good idea anymore.