Tag Archives: Christmas

The gift of the love note

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Matt and I were invited to a Christmas party at my cousin’s house earlier in the month.  We had a great time (a bonus of not having depression).  Before we left, my cousin, Beth, gave me bag that her mother had sent to me.  It was full of items that had been in my grandmother’s house when she passed away, and my Aunt Linda was sending them to me for division between my sister and me.  It was mostly pictures that Grandma had, and the majority of those pictures were of my nieces and nephew, marking their growth and milestones.

But there were also some memorabilia related to my dad.  There was a school report about baseball (with a grade of 97), a model car that he had put together as a boy, and some of her favorite pictures of him.

Like most people who have lost a close loved one, I think a lot about my dad during the holidays.  I remember the fact that he always put his shopping off until the very last minute.  I remember that Christmas Eve that he tried to fix our stuck back door and we ended up with the back door in the back yard–but it wasn’t stuck anymore.  And when we get together with the rest of our family, I miss his presence.

Thus, the memorabilia that was in the bag that was specific to him felt like a Christmas present.  It was wonderful to pull out the toy car and read the report on baseball.

And I was reminded that my dad was, to his bones, an optimistic person.  He was a natural salesman and spent most of his adult life in some sort of sales job.  He was always quite successful at sales because he connected so well with people.  Maybe because of that optimism I mentioned.

In the bag of items were two love notes that he wrote as a boy.  One of them perfectly illustrates that “never give up” attitude.  He had it even as a young man.

Love note

Love note

Dear Cathy I ham (sic) very fond of you.  And I know you love smity.  And I know you have some more boy friend.  But I still love you.  love Tommy.

I love this love letter.  He recognizes that Cathy loves someone else (Smity), but it doesn’t matter–Tommy still loves her.  It’s that optimistic, glass-half-full outlook that he exhibited until he died.

This little note may have been the best gift I got this year.

Tommy

Tommy

JOYful holidays

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This picture perfectly illustrates how I have felt about the holidays for, oh, about the last 20 years.  I saw this image on Pinterest the other day and I laughed out loud because it is funny, but then I started to think about how much I related to the picture.

I grew up in Christmas tree farm country.  Lots of people make their living growing and selling Christmas trees, so they are not just a tradition that brighten and decorate the house once a year, they are a source of income and security for lots of families.

I dated and lived with a Christmas tree grower for many years during my 20s, so I was a “Christmas tree widow” for 10 years.  And you really do lose your loved one to the fields during the harvest season — only about 6 weeks to make the income for the whole 52 weeks of the year.  The pressure is high and the work days are long.

And in the end, you get a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.  They weren’t quite as bad as the one pictured to the left, but we always got the left over, culled trees.  The good trees were sold, not saved for the house.

These years began my disenchantment with the holidays.    Even after the Christmas tree grower and I finally split the Christmas tree ornaments for good, I had little joy in the Christmas season.

I would turn the radio station when Christmas carols came on;  I stopped getting a Christmas tree; I hated shopping for Christmas presents because of the crowds.  The only thing that I liked about Christmas was the reason behind it:  Jesus’s birth.

This year, however, ring the bells!  Ding dong!  The witch is dead.  Or, sticking with the theme, Scrooge has seen all three ghosts and converted.  I am actually enjoying this holiday season.  I enjoyed decorating the Christmas tree.  I even put lights on a tree outside!  Yesterday, I went to Wal-Mart and found myself dancing in the aisles to the cheery Christmas music on the speakers.  I realized what I was doing when I noticed that one little boy kept standing at the end of whatever aisle I was in, watching me.  Once I realized what he was doing, I put some extra wiggle and kick into each aisle.  I figured the kid should get rewarded (or punished depending on his point of view) for stalking me in Wal-Mart.

The difference in this year and past years — this year I’m not depressed.  That bitch disease has been stealing Christmas from me — depression is The Grinch!

I’ve gotten my Christmas present early this year — I’m dancing in the aisles again (literally).  I hope your presents are as awesome as mine has been.

Ghost of Christmas future

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I did our weekly grocery shopping yesterday and on the way out the door, I spotted what I thought was an “Angel Tree” for local needy children.  You know, pick an “Angel” with a child’s name and a list of the gifts that they want and / or need for Christmas.

Instead, this was a “Senior Tree”–a tree for needy senior citizens.  I had never seen such a thing.

I am always saddened by the Angel Tree kids that ask for notebooks and pencils, gloves, socks, a winter coat, all those things that seem like necessities and not like fun, playful gifts for Christmas.  I guess one version of Heaven will be a world where kids don’t have to ask for basics but can ask for (and get) frivolous gifts, gifts that they totally don’t need but just want.

The gifts that the Seniors asked for broke my heart as much as a kid asking for school supplies for Christmas.  I picked a senior named Sarah who asked for a sweat suit, some chocolate, some tissues and a soft blanket for her bed.

I went back to the store tonight to buy all the items for which Sarah asked.  And being a contemplative person, I naturally started to think about my (I-hope-I-have-them) senior years.

Matt and I don’t have any children, either with each other or with other people.  For me, a childless state isn’t something that I consciously chose–it just kinda happened this way.  One path taken, another path missed, a spell at this rest stop, and ta-da, before I knew it, I was in my late 30s, still single with no children.  Matt and I met; he reluctantly fell in love with me (I fell in love more willingly with him) and we married, but we both knew that at this point in our lives, we didn’t want to have children.

One of my greatest fears is that I will be old and alone.  I guess I could add at this point the cliché about having 30 cats, but I won’t.  (Well, actually, I just did, but I didn’t mean to.)  Who is going to take care of us when we get old?  Who is going to make sure that we are ok?  If Matt goes before I do, then I’m really going to be alone.  I really hope that I go first.  (Sorry, Matt, if that seems selfish.  It is, but I’ll be dead so you shouldn’t be mad at me.)

I hope Matt and I look happier than this when we're this old...

I hope Matt and I look happier than this when we’re this old…

Matt has wisely pointed out that having children doesn’t necessarily mean that you will have someone to care for or about you when you are old.  I know that.  But my imaginary children that I raise in response to seeing how poorly other people are raising their children are so well behaved that I just know that they would take care of us and love us and feed us and change us.  (My imaginary children also always do their homework, never talk back, obey without question, and respect me unreservedly.  I’m that good of an imaginary mother.)

It is very scary to think that in 20 to 30 years, somebody could be pulling a card off of a Senior Tree with the name “Cristy” on it.  Will they be as saddened as I was by Sarah’s card?  I’m going to start stocking up now on tissues and chocolate so that I can ask for some fun stuff.

Here’s my prayer:

If I ever have a card on a Senior Tree, Dear Lord, please let me have enough friends and loved ones to visit me and provide companionship, remember me on my birthday, buy me sweatsuits and food that I like, send me emails and letters, and remind me that I am loved so that I can ask on my card for:

  1. Dr. Dre headphones (to listen to my 80s-90s Rock w/o disturbing my roommate)
  2. Some exercise bands to stay in shape to fight the other women for the limited men at my age
  3. Good mixer to make mashed potatoes (to fight the other women for the limited men at my age)
  4. Two words:  PLASTIC SURGERY

Amen.

Pinterest is making me crazy

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I am convinced that “another pinner says” is the new equivalent to “an unnamed source” — there may or may not actually be a person who tried that recipe, made that craft, used that home remedy to remove stains.  My guess is that in most cases, “another pinner” actually refers to some corporation or other invested party because some of these things DO NOT WORK and no actual person would recommend or pin or repin.

The alternative is that I am a bumbling, incapable individual.

This may be the ultimate truth.  I would like to believe that it is my Pinterest conspiracy theory and not a mid-life deterioration of my abilities.

CASE STUDIES:

Someone pinned this FABULOUS recipe with only TWO ingredients for AWESOME pumpkin muffins — canned pumpkin and yellow cake mix.  I have seen it pinned and repinned.  Potentially some of the grossest food I have put in my mouth.

TWO INGREDIENTS — how could I have messed it up?  But it sucked.  Yet it still keeps getting passed around the world of Pinterest.

Easy to make Christmas tree ornaments.  Three ingredients to make your own clay (corn starch, baking soda and water), shape and bake, then decorate.  Do it with YOUR CHILD!  How hard could it be (repeat: do it with YOUR CHILD!).

Here is photographic proof of how hard it was:

Matt walked in and said, “Those are some ugly cookies.”  I had to say, “No, those are some ugly Christmas tree ornaments.”

I’ve been making Christmas tree ornaments as gifts for the last 8 years.  None has turned out this bad — but this is the first year that I got the idea from Pinterest.  Coincidence?  I DON’T think so.

Am I the only one actually trying to make the items on Pinterest so am the only one seeing that the shit on there is just pretty to look at and not really do-able by the Average Joe?  If so, that’s ok, but let’s call a spade a spade.  Pinterest should be a website about things we dream of doing, cooking, making, seeing, tasting, reading, dating, wearing, decorating, living in, etc. but don’t have any intention of actually getting off of our asses and doing.  “My Wish (but will never do) List”

I would have saved a whole lot of time today.

Christmas Cards

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I just joined Facebook, which is just one more way to completely eradicate the need for face-to-face contact with other people as well as further diminish the number of real letters and cards that are sent through the mail. Nothing comes through the mail anymore except circulars and Geico Insurance mailers. (Thank goodness for the number that you can call to stop credit card offers, or two of those per day would still be coming, as well.) With the invention of bill pay on-line, most of my bills don’t even come through the mail, any more.
But, this time of year is different. I love to go to the mailbox during the holidays. CHRISTMAS CARDS! During the month of December, I get an average of one card per day. The days when two or three come are the best. A card, a letter, a picture — a real, honest-to-goodness piece of mail that someone addressed, licked and stamped. For at least 20 seconds, I was on some one’s mind.
I am a Christmas card junkie and hoarder. All my Christmas cards are displayed on my fireplace mantle (and this year, this is the extent of our Christmas decorating). Each year, after Christmas, the cards are stowed away, and the pictures are placed in an album. I have Christmas pictures of all my friend’s children, their dogs / cats, their vacations, etc. in my photo albums. I do not toss away at the end of the holiday season — I save and cherish.
What is my fascination with Christmas cards? I’m not sure. And I don’t send out particularly great ones myself. I don’t include write-ups of what I’ve been doing the past 12 months (hint: working, sleeping, working, occasional trip, working) because there are usually no great dramas or milestones (thank You, Lord, for the lack of drama). This year was the first year that I sent out a “picture” Christmas card.
Yet I absolutely love getting Christmas cards from my family and friends. I love knowing that people were thinking of me, putting me on their “Best Wishes” list, going to the trouble in this day and age of instant messaging to find my address and addressing (ah, the tedium) an envelope. When I look at my mantle and the number of Christmas cards, it’s a visual reminder of the sheer number of people in my life that care for me and for whom I care.
I don’t suppose that most people know that when they send me a Christmas card they are saying more than “Happy Holidays”, “Merry Christmas & Happy New Year” — they are also saying “you are loved”. Back at you all.