Merry, Merry Christmas

First of all, before I recap the recent holiday, let's set the mood with a little traditional Christmas music:

There, that should do it...

A lot was packed in to just a couple of days, but we hit all of the high spots. The day before Christmas I brought up my treasured stash of pine cones from the basement. These were ones largely collected years ago when the kids were small. Way back then, one of our periodic weekend activities would be to go behind the fire station and collect pine cones for craft projects. Over the years more were added to the bag from Westfield, Fitchburg, and Cape Cod. I hauled the pine cones upstairs, along with glitter, paint and glue, all for making mini Christmas trees. Unfortunately, being downstairs in my damp basement for several years wasn't without a cost. Still, nothing smells more like Christmas than musty pine cones.At least right now anyway.

Christmas eve was spent making cookies, which seemed to go pretty smoothly this year. In some of the years past when the kids were small, the floor would be coated with more sprinkles than what ended up on the cookies. This would mix in nicely with all the glitter on the floor that had missed the pine cones earlier in the day. In those days, Christmas music would be playing in the background, which would blend in with the "gentle" sounds of "Mrs. Claus" slowly losing control. This year, it was pretty much just the Christmas music. A nice touch.

After everyone was done with their cookies, Sam wrote his yearly letter to Santa, which is always heartfelt. He left him some cookies and eggnog, unspiked, like usual as well. I brought Sam up to bed where Jake had cleared a spot on the nightstand just in case Santa came and left him some candy. An hour after Sam was ushered off to bed, the other kids were sent to bed too (which I have long ago learned is not the same thing as actually going to sleep). But they were out of sight so Santa could finally get to work.

Every year I'm amazed how long it takes Santa to get through his routine. It seems like no matter how much work is done beforehand, this is at least a two hour process. Maybe that's not bad, but after so much work building up to it, it sure seems like a long time. Candy canes and chocolate ornaments are hung on the tree, bows are stuck on the previously wrapped presents and placed under the tree, and stockings are stuffed and hung on the stair railing. Mrs. Claus then staggers up to bed while Santa hangs around for a little while longer to make sure that Sam, at least, is asleep. Then Santa can pass out the hoped for candy, which, in Sam's case, is seldom eaten but serves to reassure him that Santa did indeed show up. After this, Santa is free to pass out as well.

Christmas morning comes a little later than it did than when the kids were small, but it never feels late enough. This year I awoke to Sam standing next to my bed, whistling. It was a casual, "Don't mind me, I'm just standing here." kind of whistling. It was my cue to get downstairs, turn on the tree lights and get the camera going before telling everyone that we're all set to go... basically, "Lights, camera, action!" Given the word, everyone filed down and we were off and running.

Stockings and presents were opened, and while it's secondary to us all being together, it's still nice to see that people seemed happy with what they got. Between everyone (except Sam) having shorter Christmas lists than in past years, and with the older kids being away for what seemed like more than usual, buying gifts felt like more of a crap shoot this year. I always spend a lot of time picking out what I hope they will like but wonder if it will mean as much to them. Or will something that I though was the perfect fit be left to gather dust or end up in a tag sale box. But everything worked out.

The rest of the day was spent having dinner, watching a movie and best of all, relaxing together while we listened to more Christmas music.

Speaking of which...

Travel Time

I went to pick up Rachael in Stockbridge last night and Helaina and Jacob came with me. Under normal conditions, this is usually about an hour and a half drive, but I left early. About two hours early. Part of it was the excuse that the traffic was likely to be heavy, which wasn't completely untrue. And part of it was the excuse that I had to make a stop before getting Rachael. Which again, was partly true. Maybe not two hours true, but still ...

The fact is I was excited to be going to get Rachael and I was excited to be spending the time with Helaina and Jake. It's been a long time since we road around together and even longer since we drove around listening to Christmas carols together.

It turns out the traffic wasn't all that bad, and my stop took all of about twenty minutes. This left plenty of time to do more driving around, listening to music and catching up on small talk while we waited for Rachael... for the next two hours.

Holiday Greetings

I'm feeling pressured by my junk email. It started about a month ago. At first the subject lines were fairly innocuous, containing vaguely helpful suggestions. Since then, it has slowly degenerated into comments that covey an increasing sense of panic. Is it because I have chosen to ignore their helpful advice? Are they feeling the stress of the holiday season?

Actual subject lines from my emails this month:
   "Product Recommendations for you"
   "Wishing You Happy Shopping"
   "Need Help Shopping?"
   "Gifts For Everyone!"
   "Don’t Miss Out!"
   "Sale Ends Soon!"
   "Don’t Miss Your Last Chance!"
   "It’s Almost the LAST MINUTE!"
   "Sale ENDS TODAY!"
   "HURRY!"
   "FINAL HOURS!"
   "WHAT DOES IT TAKE TO GET THROUGH TO YOU!!???" (Ok, I made this last one up)

At the risk of losing their friendship, they can pressure me all they want, but they don't know who they're dealing with.

Today's Mood

Over and Done

So, Sam has a clean bill of health. Clean to the point where the neurosurgeon called me at home the other evening (the first time that's ever happened in the over ten years since this started). And clean to the point where it looks like this no longer has to be what has recently been reduced to an every-other-year event.

I figure Sam has had somewhere close to twenty MRIs, starting with when he was first admitted to the hospital. I can't say I'm going to miss this at all.

But I will always worry.

Pandora's Box

I hate when this rolls around. It used to be every November, and before that, twice a year. But it's been two years since we last had to go.I feel like having the break should somehow make it more tolerable, but it doesn't. It opens up the box of awful emotions that I struggle keep a lid on the rest of the year. Up until a day or two before going through it, I convince myself that it's only a formality, but as it gets closer, I think "What if it's not?"

I remember all too well how an ordinary day can instantly spin into a nightmare. And I remember how a life can be hanging by a thread as I go about my life, completely unaware. When this comes around, I feel it like it was yesterday.


I will pretend that everything is fine so that he won't worry. And I will be holding my breath until the follow-up, when I can hopefully exhale. 


Just like every other time.