Maybe Not So Much This Year

Sorry for being so quiet and not making the blog rounds for awhile. Work was very busy last week, pretty much non-stop, and I've been sick, trying to avoid a doctor visit common sense tells me I should do. The latter has put me farther behind, leaving me to pull off (minor) cleaning today & hoping that I can bake some cookies (Molasses-Ginger-Cranberry, although as I write these words I realize I never bought the crystallized ginger! Argggh...so add another grocery store trip to the to-do list before sons and my sister arrive).

I haven't been my elf self this year. There's some real sadness for our family this year, and I'm wanting to get past the day with all its memories and meanings. So we're changing things up. My sons and sister will still be with us tonight for pizza and presents, laughter and the Grinch. The 'boys' will stay overnight this year; for the first time in years, they'll be with me on Christmas Day (which TWC promises will be snow-dusted!). There will be cinnamon rolls and coffee, and general hanging out. Last I heard they'll prep dinner here and then we'll all trek about 25 miles south, dine at my older son's place, joined by their dad. Finally, the lot of us will go see The Hobbit. Linda has saint-like moments, and tomorrow is one of them. I'm eternally grateful for her understanding and compassion. 

And she and I have some plans for after Christmas, from a possible semi-north country trek to buy miniature honey jars, to finally visiting the new Trader Joe's in Albany, to a decadent New Year's Eve dinner. I plan rest and reading, starting some more felted dryer balls and maybe Linda & I can finally tarp the chicken coop. I'm off work until January 2nd, and plan to savor the days! And I'll offer a prayer that next year's holiday will be a happier one, and that my comatose inner elf will re-emerge, trailing glitter and lights in her wake. In the meantime, I offer a re-run (gasp!) of the first Christmas Eve post I wrote for this blog, back in 2009, as well as wishes to each of you that the holiday bless you with love, laughter, child-like wonder, and gifts far greater than what the eye can behold. Peace!

CHRISTMAS EVE, 2009

I remember Christmas Eve from childhood...perhaps I've romanticized it, tossed out those memories that don't fit in my mental photo album; after all, mine was not a childhood to write home (or a blog) about.  Be that as it may, I remember Christmas Eve as a day of anticipation and pleasure, and can flick through the images like a slideshow: the tree lit with those big, bright C7 bulbs that still make me smile when I see them; the small cones of balsam incense that filled the air with the scent of piney woods; my father's many cryptic comments and teasings about Santa; dressing up and heading out in bitter cold at 11:00 at night to sing at midnight Mass; the heat and incense in the church, everyone scrubbed, shiny inside and out, singing our hearts out in the choir (fortunately there were enough voices to hide my own terrible one), the glory-ous ritual of midnight Mass; coming home and heading straight to bed, tired but too excited to fall right to sleep; that wee-hours-of-the-morning waking up and stretching out a foot to feel if the Christmas stocking laid out on the bed had any weight, then the racing of anticipation as I felt its stuffed roundness in the dark; waking up my sister so we could turn on the light and explore our treasures (we seemed to call a truce every Christmas Eve and I look back at my memory of those nights and wish we could have held onto those giggles and intimacy the rest of the year....and years to come); falling back asleep even while convinced it wasn't possible; and on Christmas morning proper the bated-breath excitement as dad went downstairs to check to be sure Santa had in fact arrived...the teasing that oops, maybe he had skipped us, then the gleeful go-ahead to send us tumbling down the stairs and into the living room.

As an adult it seems like that anticipation was the high point, that all-is-right-with-the-world-and-anything-is-possible magic at the cusp of Christmas.  Maybe it wasn't like that at all, maybe the mind and age have air-brushed the memories, done a little digital magic, inserting and removing images that don't accurately portray what I want to remember.  But since it does no harm and feels good, why not?

That anticipation still survives...there's still magic, still anticipation, even if it's tempered now, more subdued.  I still can't wait to watch the Grinch find the strength of "ten Grinches...plus two", watch my sons taunt me as they see how long they can take to open their presents, listen to my sister's laugh, catch my beloved's eye from across the room, breathe in the lights and balsam, feel the peace and contentment.  And maybe that's the best gift of all...I may not feel that can't-sit-still-wake-up-in-the-wee-hours giddiness anymore, but the multi-colored peace and satin ornament contentment are soul-felt gifts.