As usual, Christmas came and went and we all survived. It wasn't the Hallmark Movie of the Week, and "the perfect life-changing present" (which doesn't exist) wasn't under the tree, but it was lovely in its own, quiet, and ever-changing way. One sister and her husband and daughter and her friend made it for Christmas Eve and brought meatballs and cookies (two different dishes, you'll be relieved to hear). The other sister has grown fearful of traveling in the dark and didn't feel brave enough to venture forth, and while I understand and sympathize with that, it also made me a little sad. Nothing stays the same. I have to keep reminding myself that it's not supposed to.
The presents from the boys were thoughtful and whimsical and required no help from Mom and Dad except for transportation to the mall. Son Number One gave me a tee shirt which reads "Vassar College - undefeated since 1861" and there's a football on it. Well the school was all girls until 1969 and there never has been a football team, and I thought it was very funny. He also gave me a book on how to make money from writing my blog. A certain celebrity on the west coast will read that line and rub her hands in glee and shout "See! I told you!" but we'll talk later, Susan.
Son Number Two gave me a New York Times Crossword a Day calendar and I'm really looking forward to using it. I love crosswords, but never make time for them. He also gave me a tee shirt. This one is flaming red with the Wonder Woman logo on the front. I've already worn it to work, prompting some rather interesting comments.
It's still hard to think of all the missing friends and family who have been here in years gone by. An ornament recalls a face or a time, a picture on the piano grabs my eye, and my heart gives the same kind of twinge I'm getting used to from my knees, except it hurts more. But, as with the knees, I acknowledge it, suck it up, and move on. Nobody wants to hear about my aches. As they say about the Virgin Mary, "I ponder all these things in my heart."
Himself is a gift all on his own. In addition to Herculean struggles at cleaning the house in preparation for company, he has continued to toil away at bringing order to chaos in the days that have followed. It has been a trip down Memory Lane as his archeological dig has unearthed bits and pieces from the past that I have long forgotten. I'm beginning to think there might actually be a cozy home under all the piles, and that might be the greatest present of all, along with the purchase for at least the tenth year in a row of "The Writer's Market", which assures me that he still believes in my dream. Some years the binding is never cracked. Other years there is a tentative dive into certain sections to see what the possibilities are. But as Father Hugh used to say, back in the day when I thought I'd be alone and misunderstood forever, "The groundwork doesn't show until one day...."
The presents from the boys were thoughtful and whimsical and required no help from Mom and Dad except for transportation to the mall. Son Number One gave me a tee shirt which reads "Vassar College - undefeated since 1861" and there's a football on it. Well the school was all girls until 1969 and there never has been a football team, and I thought it was very funny. He also gave me a book on how to make money from writing my blog. A certain celebrity on the west coast will read that line and rub her hands in glee and shout "See! I told you!" but we'll talk later, Susan.
Son Number Two gave me a New York Times Crossword a Day calendar and I'm really looking forward to using it. I love crosswords, but never make time for them. He also gave me a tee shirt. This one is flaming red with the Wonder Woman logo on the front. I've already worn it to work, prompting some rather interesting comments.
It's still hard to think of all the missing friends and family who have been here in years gone by. An ornament recalls a face or a time, a picture on the piano grabs my eye, and my heart gives the same kind of twinge I'm getting used to from my knees, except it hurts more. But, as with the knees, I acknowledge it, suck it up, and move on. Nobody wants to hear about my aches. As they say about the Virgin Mary, "I ponder all these things in my heart."
Himself is a gift all on his own. In addition to Herculean struggles at cleaning the house in preparation for company, he has continued to toil away at bringing order to chaos in the days that have followed. It has been a trip down Memory Lane as his archeological dig has unearthed bits and pieces from the past that I have long forgotten. I'm beginning to think there might actually be a cozy home under all the piles, and that might be the greatest present of all, along with the purchase for at least the tenth year in a row of "The Writer's Market", which assures me that he still believes in my dream. Some years the binding is never cracked. Other years there is a tentative dive into certain sections to see what the possibilities are. But as Father Hugh used to say, back in the day when I thought I'd be alone and misunderstood forever, "The groundwork doesn't show until one day...."
So here's to Christmas miracles and Hallmark moments and learning to "go with the flow", which reminds me of another famous Father Hugh quote: "Don't push the river, kid. It flows by itself." I am only beginning to learn at 61 how much courage it takes to get on the raft and enjoy the ride.
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