Wrapped in Presence: A Christmas Story
Boxes stacked under trees. Paper torn open. Things carefully chosen, bought, and wrapped. Christmas is built around giving something you can hold. But for the Taylor family this Christmas, what mattered most couldn’t be wrapped.
Nine months ago, Scott lost his wife. Sam and Zoe lost their mom. Christmas has always been the most important day of the year in the Taylor home. This is their first one without Jodi.
Grief doesn’t take a holiday. And neither does parenting. Scott is also mom to his kids now. There are traditions to navigate, and a loneliness growing louder as everything around him insists on joy.
We asked for Scott’s permission to show up, and he gave it to us. Our plan was simple:
On December 17th, we would watch his kids so he could attend our Sequel Makers Klatch to connect with others in his situation. And on December 19th, we would come to his home and help him wrap presents, so he didn’t have to do that alone.
The kids decided they wanted to go to the Mall of America.
On the way there we agreed Sam and his friend Brady would ride roller coasters until dinner time. And Zoe decided her and I would roam the mall instead.
“Where would your mom wanna go first?” I asked Zoe.
"She'd go to the bookstore!" she proclaimed.
As we made our way there, she told me how much her mom loved to read. Unfortunately, the bookstore didn't have The Legends of Lotus Island books she was after, so after she promised me she’d read them all, we ordered the entire series on Amazon shipped to her home in time for Christmas.
The more time Zoe and I spent at the mall, the more it became clear that her and her mom had spent a lot of time together in this place. She shared stories about memories they created there. Like when her mom convinced her to ride the zipline. Only after Zoe soared to the other side did she realize her mom had no intention of following.
“I knew you could do it!”, her mom told her.
As she shared her memories with me, I clung to every word in awe of her resilience. I could feel her mom’s presence with us, and I believe she could too.
Zoe didn’t seem interested in going into other stores, until we came across Sephora. And when she discovered I had never set foot in a Sephora – we decided it was our destiny.
While in Sephora I asked her to help me find gifts for the women in my life. She lit up like a Christmas tree and got to work. At one point an employee asked me if I needed help, and I responded that I had all the help I needed as I pointed to Zoe.I asked Zoe to pick out something for herself; she knew exactly what she wanted. A face mist of some kind. Somehow, between the checkout and the front door she had already opened the package and was testing the mist, telling me about its superpowers all the while.
We met back up with the boys for dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings. During dinner Zoe told me a spot on her face was hurting.
“Wing sauce?” I asked. And then I asked Zoe if I could see her new face mist.
“No wonder your face hurts, there is hydrochloric acid in this stuff!!” I exclaimed.
She shot back, “It’s a skin care product! And it’s hyaluronic acid!”
We had ice cream after dinner. And every girly looking store we walked past like Ulta or Bed Bath & Beyond I’d ask her if she wanted to look for more face acid.
Zoe also ended up with some strange people tchotchkes and a Coraline coffee mug to use at school for hot chocolate. I started calling her Cloe, Zeo, Neo, Noe, anything other than her name just to get her fired up. Zoe never tired of cheerfully correcting me. Zoe made me feel like a kid again.
That’s what your generosity made possible this Christmas.
While a grieving father connected with others who understood him, his children were cared for by someone unafraid of their story. They talked about their mom. They laughed. Her presence was remembered out loud. And later, Scott didn’t have to wrap their presents alone.
This is what a return on investing in our community looks like. In a season that tells us more belongings will make us whole, you chose to give belonging.
Your year-end gift to Jack’s Caregiver Coalition doesn’t sit under a tree. It shows up—in living rooms, in shopping malls, in support groups, in moments when grief is heavy and presence is everything.
This Christmas, thank you for giving what matters most. Please visit jackscaregiverco.org to make your year-end gift today. Merry Christmas!
