But this year, the kinder and less adventurous me is content to get the tree up as a beginning to our Christmas celebration. If I were an animal, I would be a cat. . .
and be content to cuddle on the tree skirt and bat around an ornament or ribbon when I got all slept out. And here I must give thanks to Dan and Jenny for setting up the tree this year and dragging the bins labeled "Christmas Stuff" in from the garage. We set it up on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and it occurred to me that when we retire and move to Watertown, I won't have Dan to help. After the prick of panic passsed, I grabbed Bob's arm as he passed us on his way to find a snack in the kitchen and tried to "share" some of the spirit of Christmas home decoration. Bob's middle name is Virgil, but I think it should be Scrooge, as he even repeated, "Bah, humbug!" as he headed to his recliner with snack in hand. I'll have to work on that next year. By now, I'm pretty sure I can cajole him when necessary. He'll be the reformed Ebeneezer one day.
Sometimes the Christmas Spirit pops out of nowhere and surprises us. For me, it came as I was pulling into a local SuperAmerica gas station (aka: The Icee Store). On the car radio I heard Kenny Rogers singing, "And she believes in me. I'll never know just what she sees in me." Well, I just melted and filled with thankful tears. I had to stop the car, breathe deeply, and wipe my eyes in order to park. This song is about a man who comes home late and tries to slip into bed without waking his wife. He has been working at a singing career for a long time without feeling he has made much difference in doing so. ". . . with my little song." The wife wakes and is happy to see him. Years ago when that song was played more often, I grew to love it because to me, Bob has always been the one to believe in me. Not that I've tried a singing career, but that through all the changes and time together, he has always been there loving me, believing in me. And so often I have wondered "just what [he] sees in me." It is this attitude in him that gives me hope in myself when I'm sure I am a failure trying to slip in unnoticed and fall into oblivion. He is the greatest Christmas gift, and all I need is to have him with me again this year. Like the Jesus, he makes up for what I can't do; he is my savior. And if I can't always love myself, I always do love Bob. Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.
My strongest childhood Christmas memories are of times spend with family. Sure I remember a couple of magical gifts from Santa, but more than anything, I treasure the times with aunts and uncles, cousins and in-laws. People is what Christmas is all about to me. I am blessed by the family and friends in my life.
2 comments:
You have a good memory, that was exactly 11 years ago. I remember 'cause I was pregnant with Nolan. That was the last time I went shopping on black Friday. I doubt I will ever live that crock pot story down. It will probably be told at my funeral! ;-) Do you remember we stood in line for over an hour at Toys R Us for a Scrabble game that day, too?!? Maybe we saved $4-$5???? Good times!
You both don't shop on Black Friday now? Huh??? Is it guilt out of getting that last crock pot? HaHa....Just kidding...I have done my fair share of gettin' the deals over someone else...no trampling though! Janice, you blog made me feel like I was sitting under that tree as a cat!
Post a Comment