It's probably too soon to write about Christmas 2012, which, in large part, for our family hasn't happened yet.
This, in short, is due to what I'm referring to as The Winter of Our Discontent.
It seems an appropriate choice since discontented is a mild adjective for the mood of just about everyone I know.
Because of the ice age we've been living in for the past few days, my bunch canceled the Christmas Day gathering and rescheduled it for later. Whether it happens on that day remains to be seen.
A house filled with children is a house filled with noises, commotions and smells not found in other places. If at least two of the siblings are in the adolescent stage of development and within one year of age of each other, the clatter and constant drone created simply by their presence is at levels that make the decibel scale insufficient for measurement. Adolescents create noise simply by â€śbeing,â€ť much similar to the way Pigpen creates dust just by standing still. Itâ€™s a law of nature. It canâ€™t be stopped. You can only hope to contain it.
Let me be the first to say that I WAS not one of those people who were running around hoping for a â€śWhite Christmas.â€ť Honestly? If I had my way, Iâ€™d live on an island in the middle of nowhere, surrounded only by blue ocean waters and the ONLY time Iâ€™d leave is when there were threats of a hurricane. Or a tsunami. And maybe a volcano eruption? Ok, ok, I get it. No place is perfect no matter where you live, but I have to say, if I wanted to shovel snow and drive on icy roads, Iâ€™d have stayed in Chicago.
Ahhh â€¦ ainâ€™t it wonderful? Itâ€™s the day after Santey came bringing you and your household a Chevy Suburban chock-full of new â€“ what you think are â€“ state of the art electronic gizmos and gadgets which should make you happy for years on end. And, you have the credit card debt to prove it.
As I get ready to mark the first Christmas without my husband â€” which as anyone who has walked this path will tell you is no easy undertaking â€” I'm borrowing on the Norman Vincent Peale premise of "The Power of Positive Thinking."
In that vein, I'm turning my focus toward special memories of the 37 wonderful Christmases we had together.
There are some funny times, some hectic times, some frantic times, some times overshadowed with illness and loss. But through them all was the deep, abiding love we were blessed to share.
Unless you have been living under a rock for the past several months, you know the story of the Mayan calendar and how it is said to predict the end of the world as we know it on December 21, 2012. Hence, the countdown has begun.
T-minus one year and counting.
I usually remain silent when I hear someone cluck "I'm all finished with my Christmas shopping."
It especially grates on my nerves when I hear this uttered about September or so. Some who say such seem to do so with an air of "I'm so perfect that I can't imagine doing it any other way."
To my ears, they speak with foreign tongue.
I have a friend who sometimes completes her shopping as early as July. It's amazing that we've had enough in common to remain friends for 35 years.