If only in my dreams, home for Christmas

A famous crooner from days gone by sings, "I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams."

Like many Alaskans, I'll be far from my childhood home of Boston this Christmas and with them "only in my dreams." "Home" takes on different meanings.

My Uncle Ed went "home" to be with the Lord Dec. 13. He was the last of my parents' generation of Maguires and spouses to pass and a member of Tom Brokaw's "Greatest Generation." I went back to Boston to say goodbye and returned a few days ago. I've been reflecting on the six days of stories told celebrating Uncle Ed's life and the fact that I'm in Alaska serving others in education and human services. I realized today (Dec. 23) that I, like many Alaskans, am here because of our core values - respect, compassion, interdependence, community building, self-determination - and the adventurous spirit modeled in words and deeds by my uncle and parents.

Imagine my Uncle Ed's reality during the holidays as a veteran who served in Corregidor, Philippines in World War II. Of his many duties in the Navy, he drove the ship-land open troop transporter that took continuous fire as it approached shore. No cover. Many died when the gate was lowered in 4 to 5 feet of water and they waded toward the beach. Sometimes the gate would freeze (hydraulics leaking) in the down position and put him and his mates in peril. Uncle Ed survived the war and raised four kids. He spent four Christmases in the South Pacific fighting for our freedom, going where we want to go, worship how we want to worship, love who we want to love and say and express what we want to express.

Three years ago, I drove to New England to support Uncle Ed for three months in the winter of 2009. I stayed with him in the house he built with his own hands on a pond in North Andover, Mass. He was alone. Electric heat was set very low with a propane heater burning in the middle of the great room. Uncle Ed sat night and day in a comfortable chair placed in front of the TV wearing a wool hat and light coat, alone with his cat named "Cat." The curtains on his windows, which offered a great lake view, were closed to conserve heat.

When I arrived and sat with him I'd sometimes look around the great room and imagine past Christmases with curtains open, a huge, well-lit Christmas tree occupying the corner, fireplace always ablaze, families continually arriving and departing with children and grandchildren running every which way (each greeted with great big hugs and kisses by Uncle Ed and his wife, Terri), and the warmth of the room, emotionally and physically. The contrast of the warm great room against the view of the frozen lake, snow on trees and cold wind always struck me and I felt safe.

That's what families do - they make you feel safe in every way. For decades we were fortunate and blessed. I used to think I was being funny when I'd say, "These are the good old days!"

When you enjoy the warmth of family this Christmas, maybe say a prayer for my Uncle Ed and those close to you who've passed. Thank them for their efforts to create traditions of safe places and remember that "home" is in our hearts, dreams and in loving places where we enjoy "the good old days" far from the daily battles of life.

Paul Maguire is a Palmer resident and former professor at the University of Alaska Anchorage. He is the facilitator of the Center for Creating Peaceful Neighborhoods, and advocates for eliminating bullying and fully including all people in community.