Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Dropping the Ball

So where will you be when the ball drops and the year comes to a close?
Will you be with your sweetheart?
Will you be with friends and family? 
Will you be alone in a room full of strangers, wishing for someone? 
Will you even be awake?

For me, the year shall transition the same as it has every other year in recent memory...without fanfare. It will quietly slip off, wordlessly offering a soft kiss good-bye, making room for a year full of its own promises and possibilities. 

Perhaps next year will be different when one calendar year replaces another; but for now, this is where life has me. Yes, I will have eyes open when the clock strikes midnight, but I will kiss no one. No one will turn to me and say Happy New Year, no one will stand beside me to step into the new year. 

But I still know that there are plans being set in motion, plans just for me. I don't have a clue what 2014 will become, but I know that God is guiding it. God is watching the ball drop and whispering His benediction on my future. God is holding my hands and kissing my face, bestowing me with blessings that I do not yet understand. 

For that, I am thankful. For that, I raise my proverbial glass in a toast. And for the family and friends I have been given––for them, I wish only the best as they greet their own New Year.

Be Blessed, and Happy New Year!

Monday, December 30, 2013

Two Days and Counting

The two very last days of the year are hanging by a thread, lonely little reminders of a year gone by, the two sole survivors on the island of 2013. Unfortunately for these two, no amount of wilderness preparedness or sudden infusion of supplies is going to bring about their rescue. They shall pass into memory like all 363 of their fellow comrades, some looked upon with fondness, some looked upon with sneering disdain. Some viewed through a lens of pain. Whatever camp they share, each was, undeniably, unique in some way to shaping the year as a whole. One minute begat another, one day informed the next. 

So what, I can't help but wonder, will 2014 hold in store? What new discoveries will be made? What relationships will form or crumble? What opportunities will be realized? What dreams will be crushed? As the year unfolds, it will do so without thought or consideration of how much we've accomplished, how much we want it to slow down or speed up. It will become what it will become. But right now, it is still there, shiny and whole and unblemished. Full of hope and promise and possibility.

In these last two days, what can we accomplish? How can we close out the year? Are there grievances that need to be aired, fences that need to be mended, loves that need to be declared? Are there words that you need to say? Don't put them off. There's still time to redeem, still time to release the year with a wish of blessing, to light it on fire and watch the smoke rise like sweet incense rather than see it burn into bitter ashes. 

Make it count, so that when the countdown comes, you can savor those last few seconds, even as you take your first taste of the new year being set before you. 

Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Lost Mail

Amazingly enough, Christmas is over...already! So much rushing, rushing, preparing, and stressing, all slamming smack into the big day. And despite the fact that most of the things that were planned for the span of time between Christmas Eve day and Christmas Day didn't quite go off as anticipated, things happened the way they needed to. My hard and fast schedule melted into a warm, sweet formlessness––like a bar of chocolate left too close to a firelight. The timeline was crumpled and tossed out with the discarded wrapping paper, and the simplicity of being together was savored with as much appreciation as the finest wine. 

Even without the exchange of wrappable gifts, the day itself was something to treasure, something that cannot be recaptured or recreated. There were so many nuances, so many emotions, so many memories that were reflected upon. There were bittersweet moments of the reminders of the people that have been lost, the seemingly small differences that––taken together––were heavy realizations that some things will never be the same. 

For me, one of the most noticeable came with the absence of a card.   

The card never came in May. It was the first, and will, of course, only be the first of many. It was lost in the shuffle, a forgotten piece of printed cheer that would have assured me that things were normal, that the year was taking its forward march. That the new number declaring my age had not gone unnoticed or uncelebrated by the grandmother who had always taken such care to send cheery little notes and cards at the appropriate points throughout the year: Easter, Valentine's Day, birthdays, Halloween, Christmas. 
There was no Happy Birthday, Granddaughter! resting happily in my mailbox, no phone call with her voice on the end of the line wishing happiness on my day. No reminder that I had been born on a Spaghetti Night, thirty years ago.

As September rolled around, the next card noticeably, undeniably absent from my tiny mailbox was simply a card that should have held a check, carefully calculated and designated for my treasured and much-anticipated task of playing Santa's helper. She would have scrawled a note of thanks, each slant and curve of her cursive script so familiar to my eyes. She would have reminded me that Christmas was coming through the simple posting of that note. And before she closed the card and licked the flap of the envelope, she would have penned words to remind me that she loved me.

That card was, in the end, replaced by a plain envelope with a scrap of paper and a quick note in the masculine strokes of my grandfather's handwriting. Chicken scratch formed by years of scribbling figures and plans and signatures. The handwriting of a man accustomed to working with his hands. The writing of a man who was now tasked with things that his wife had so long attended to. The note, as always, thanked me for the shopping I was about to do. But it was in that unfamiliar hand, one that will now replace the feminine script of a woman who so dedicated herself to sending all those missives, those Hallmark moments and silly reminders of the progression of the year. Most of those cards will never be sent again...and it is that realization that seems most devastating. 

In a way, though, it also serves as a reminder. That we should take notice, that we should pay attention and not let the year slip by. That the simple sending of a note can be such an important way to say, "I love you. You matter." 

Pick up a pen and say I love you.  

Monday, December 23, 2013

Checked the List?

Well, I'm done with the actual present-buying phase...now I still have to hit the Dollar Tree for all various accoutrements to wrap said presents, then actually wrap the aforementioned presents, run to the grocery store(s) for a few last minute things, load up the little car for my trek over to my parents' place for Christmas Eve sleep-over, and be ready to go over there tomorrow early afternoon (by which time I will hopefully be all done with all of this and actually prepared to relax a bit between Christmas Eve service and Christmas morning).
 
Dear God, give me enough time and sanity to do it all!

Maybe it would seem so gloomily daunting if a peek out the window didn't yield the sight of a gloomy gray sky and temps that seem to be dipping by the hour. Not exactly my idea of happy weather for Christmas. For me, this kind of weather inspires nothing but the desire to curl up in a little ball around a HUGE cup of scalding hot liquid with a book and a blanket. Or maybe swap out the book for a good ole couch sesh involving a marathon run of my favorite Bravo shows. Or just a nice, burrowed DEEEEEP under the covers nap. 

Whatever the case, I'm sure you get the point that I really, really don't want to have to tackle the rest of my list. Yes, I very much want all of those tasks completed and crossed off, but I don't want to have to  be the one actually doing them. So where are Santa and his elves when you need them?

Maybe they took off when the government went on strike, and they never came back? Maybe they, like the rest of the world, have taken everything online and no longer actually leave the North Pole?  Maybe they've gotten so stressed out that they've gone off to find some inner peace at a retreat and are no longer reachable by traditional (or modern) means...in which case, I guess we're all screwed, as I doubt any of us would actually be able to achieve that higher plain to which he and said elves have ascended. At least, not in any way considered legal by the local governing authorities.
 
But I digress. 

My point here, is not ultimately complain, but to remind myself (and anyone who happens to be reading this) that amidst all of the last minute craziness that seems like it will never get done, we still have time to actually enjoy the season. Even if it's taking just a minute here and there to click over to YouTube and watch the musical paradox of David Bowie and Bing Crosby harmonize over Little Drummer Boy or shove a candy cane up your nose to win a drooly grin from the baby across the dining room in the restaurant so crazy with glassy-eyed shoppers. Tune it out, and listen for the magic. Watch for the magic, and you'll find it. Sprinkled here and there, like the glitter that somehow ends up stuck to everything, picked up from God-knows-where, since you haven't used glitter on anything since that one time you just had to try the gel-glitter eyeliner. Mistake. And one you'd live down, too, if not for the magic of the Internet...

Find the season, and you'll find the joy. 
Put that on your list and circle it. It's not something you'll want to cross off the list...

Sunday, December 22, 2013

It's December WHAT?!?!?

I wish I may, I wish I might have one more week till Santa's big night...
Maybe if I click my little red heals together three times and say it...
Or close my eyes and chant the words with my eyes closed, standing on one foot...
Nope. Still here
The twenty-second.
Of December.
Should I do the Home Alone freak-out?
Oh, that I could...I think my downstairs neighbor might take issue with the resulting stomping on our paper-thin floors, though, and I try to stay on her good (read: totally avoid her when at all possible, since she doesn't seem much a fan of anyone who breathes) side.
Anyway. Since I don'r seem to have any say in the time-space continuum, I guess I'm just going to have to deal, and soldier on through my list.
And such a list it still seems to be, even through I've been chunking away at it everyday.
How does that happen?
On the upside, though, I'm not feeling out of touch with Christmas. I'm feeling quite in touch with it, actually. At this point, I think it's begun to breathe down my neck with gingerbread cookie-scented breath. 
Still shopping to to, still ALL of my wrapping to do, still baking supplies to buy and then use.
And the clock marches on.
As the saying goes, time waits for no one, and I think Christmas has even less patience than any other time of year.
HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN?!?
So what to do, what to do?
Well. 
I guess I could self-medicate with the peppermint schnapps, but I prefer sobriety. So my only recourse is this: to remember that this only happens once a year, and that I WILL get everything done that needs to be done. That anything that falls off the list really isn't that important anyway. To realize that this is a celebration of the people in my life and to give them even just a sliver of all the joy that they bring to my life. These gifts are about appreciation, and if they can bring even the barest hint of a smile to the person unwrapping them, I've done my job. And everything that might not have gotten done is––in the long run––is as unnecessary the caroling bass that springs to life every time the front door opens at your Uncle Morty's.   
Slow down, breathe, and remember that this isn't about the rush. It's about showing love to the people who give you so very much. It's about taking a day to remember that we are given much by a God who loves us. It's about bringing joy.
Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Off the Christmas List

My pink tree is un-boxed and cheerily casting a rosy glow in my apartment. I love the sight of it, and it's amazing what kind of effect the simple addition of that little tree has done to make me feel more connected to Christmas. True, I haven't busted out the mini ornaments yet, but its mere presence is reminder enough that Christmas is coming, and that I have so many things to be thankful for...like my friends, my wonderful family, my work (and the fact that I actually LOVE my work), a God who loves me beyond the scope of my imagination, the roof over my head, and the food in my fridge...and the simple fact that I can have a pink tree in my apartment without worry of ridicule. 

It occurred to me the other day that this is the first Christmas in a long time that nothing on my Christmas wish list has to do with my love life (or lack thereof). For many years before I got married, I asked Santa (not really, but you get my point) to bring me a boyfriend or husband...love of some kind. Last year, Christmas was so turned upside down by my husband's death that I was pretty much at the point of wishing it all away. This year's list for Santa includes NO MEN at all––in no way, shape, or form. 

I'm turning over a new leaf, I guess. Strange, but true. And kind of liberating, now that I think about it. I'm not on the man hunt, and it's really not something I miss. If one comes to me, fine. If not, fine. I know now that it's important to let things happen as they happen. Not to push. Not to expect the magic-ness of my life t depend on the presence of romance. There are still gifts to enjoy, wonders to experience, moments to treasure, and memories to make. They're still there, waiting to be unwrapped...and if I forget that, I can find a rosy reminder in my little pink tree.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Pink is the New Green

Black Friday is but a distant memory, and Cyber Monday is creeping around the corner. Actually, I should probably amend that. It seems to be stomping up and boldly declaring its early arrival. Yup. Cyber Monday has already begun, and it's only Sunday. Seriously, I think these people never got a handle on the whole concept of calendars and days of the week. Maybe they need to go back to school...

Oh, well. I don't make the rules, and it seems no one has any plans of letting me make them...not that that's necessarily a bad thing. Not sure I could handle the pressure of being an official "rule maker." I'm enough of a control freak as it is, so why add fuel to the fire?

But I'm straying away––oh so far away––from my intended topic, so I'm going to try to get back on track. Black Friday was actually a success for me this year. Yay! Not only did I score some deals and get some much needed Christmas shopping taken care of, I also got to spend some very much needed and long overdue time with my beautiful sister. Good for me, hopefully good for her, and good for the to do list. A win-win all around, if I do say so myself. 

Steps made in the right direction, as far as feeling festive, too. It's always nice to see things decked out for the season, to start seeing the proliferation of Christmas lights on people's houses and all of the bits and baubles that signal the upcoming holiday. I just wish I was hearing more Christmas music...

Last night, I got to check one more thing off my list in my quest to make my mood more Merry. I found my tree! It's four feet of pinked-out pre-lit bliss. Now I just have to take it out of the box.... 

Twenty-four days left...