Once again, I am committing to my blog. But it’s like keeping a resolution to exercise. Repent, restart, repent, restart. I’m hoping this time…….
Where have I been? Out here in single woman land, trying to organize my life, make sense of my circumstances, step in time to the music of God’s marching band as it pounds out a rhythmic pattern here in the “half time” of my life. Sometimes I’m in, sometimes I’m out. The game is going to proceed, come what may (can you tell I’ve been watching too much football?)
I can tell I’m still making progress. For the first time in six years I’ve wanted to decorate for Christmas. The kids came for Thanksgiving and we went to Ken’s, our old traditional Christmas tree lot, and got a fresh tree. I chose a small one to put on a table. But when we got it home and in the stand and on the table, it was way too big for that. Remember Tiny Tim in the Patrick Stewart version of A Christmas Carol? He sat on Bob Cratchit’s shoulder but looked ridiculous because they must have chosen a twelve year old to play the part (Nothing tiny about him, but he could still sing soprano…Hmmmm….I digress).
That’s the feeling I got with my over-sized tree on the table. So one…two…..three….Ted lift the tree, Thomas hold the stand, Leah pull out the table, Mom not watch. It made it to the floor, water and all, with no catastrophe.
When they all went home I went to the garage and opened the big Rubbermaid tub marked "Christmas". I carefully unwrapped all my traditional ornaments that I hadn’t seen in these last few years. As I lifted each of these handmade, cherished, heirloom treasures up to the light, I gazed on them curiously and declared with conviction, “I‘m sick of these!” One by one I put them back in the box, whether made or bought, given or received, intact or falling apart. It actually surprised me, my lack of sentiment.
I went to Target and bought all new lights, large LED cone shaped ones. That’s all that’s on my tree. Not a single ornament do I want to adorn it. At least not this year. Think I need to see a shrink?
In analyzing myself (one of my favorite past times) I have concluded that Christmas ornaments from the past would like to catapult me back to a place I have been trying to leave behind. Though I have beautiful memories of raising my children in our little country cottage (not unlike the Cratchits, come to think of it), things that tend to recreate those warmest scenarios and pull me back in time also stir the grief pot. I’ve drunk my fill of that bitter soup and what’s left needs to stay in the deep freeze with last year’s fruitcake.
So I’m creating new traditions and memories that bring me great pleasure. I called Vivianne to come over and hold the ladder. “I’m hanging icicle lights along the gables of the yellow bungalow!” Vivianne did not want to be a party to this, but neither did she want to say at my funeral, “She asked me to hold the ladder and I refused”. So guilted she was... into conspiring with me to scale the 45 degree angles above and bring glad tidings of great joy to the neighborhood. You have to admit, I did a good thing!
I bought a live wreath for the porch so when I sit out there and read, the air smells like it’s supposed to. I’m having a Christmas party next week so everyone can ask, “Who hung your lights on the roof?”
Think they’ll notice there are no ornaments on the tree?????
