By Jim Nichols

The week between Christmas and New Year’s is an odd one in ways. Our normal calendar has no other major holidays so close together. They are different holidays in important ways, but for many of us, I am guessing, they are connected.

For one thing, they disrupt our daily schedules. They re-position our work schedules and by altering them allow unusual times off compared to a regular week. Families have activities that are unique to that period. Whether people are wholeheartedly celebrating Christmas and/or New Year’s, things just seem different—mostly positive for most of us.

I paused with that last sentence on the word “positive.” 

There are experiences during these holiday periods that bring emotional points that may not be in the strongly “positive” category. Memories that have been covered if not buried may surface unexpectedly. A specific example to which I am sensitive is my consideration of our family address book.

This book is a rather old-fashioned remnant of an activity once known as “writing letters” or sending packages in the mail. Smirks aside, there are still some of us around that, though we have a handy “contacts” tab on our phone, still rely on a small spiral-bound alphabetic listing of friends, family, and businesses. However, those keep changing over the years. Whereas it is simple to modify the details of someone on our phone contacts, if something appears in the address book, we must either erase it physically or (usually) scratch it out and replace it with more current information. This “scratch out and replace” activity causes the address book to become progressively cluttered, but a positive is it provides a history that is wonderful (or not so wonderful) in jogging our memories.

For instance, the first entry in our book (starting with letter “A”) gives the address of friends we met six decades ago in what seems like another time and place. We were all young and shared life including graduate school, first jobs, a fledgling church, and a life before children. We learned from each other, and those lessons still resonate.

Also under that same alphabet letter is a single name and address. We met in an alley in Italy. She sensed that we were lost and approached us speaking English. Delighted, for three days she was our unofficial tour guide using the skills she had learned from previous trips to Italy. We have never forgotten her.

Some names that we have not used in years appear in the address/history book. Just seeing those names, however, recalls specific times of laughter and concern. We made decisions together about how life was supposed to unfold and were nearby when each of us tried to play out those decisions. We were valuable sounding boards for one another for that time.

Several of the names are memorably connected by awkward events. After a meal with one of the families, we said, “That dish was so delicious. May we have the recipe?” The hostess replied, in a matter-of-fact way, “I do not give out my recipes.” In retrospect, this may not have been an unusual response, but it was the first time we had received it. The conversation was weird after that.

Another of the names participated in an after-church-social softball game. Including not just the men, but also the women and children, it was meant as fun. I was stunned when one of the men batting blasted a line drive straight at my wife playing shortstop. Fortunately, she dodged the ball; I have no idea why he swung so hard. 

Expectedly, many of the names in the address book are of those no longer alive. As you can imagine, seeing those names brings a cascade of memories and sadness. It seems like just yesterday we were sitting together laughing and crying. 

Here is an invitation. Find your version of your address book and begin to read the names. You may not be able to do this quickly, because these names will get you pondering. In an unexpected way, you will see a version of your life story through the names of your friends and families. That is certainly true for me; I suspect you will feel the same. 

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain