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Ramblings Longer Than A Christmas Bow
Saturday, Dec. 25, 2004 - 11:59 PM
I got one Christmas card in the mail this year. I didn't even get one from my doctor. I got one from work that I helped figure out how to print best. Otherwise, the only thing that came to my mailbox this Christmas season were credit card solicitations and the occasional gift that was ordered online. The only thing left under our Christmas tree is brown evergreen needles, dead and fallen. The wrapping paper that brightened the room is gone. I just returned from my annual Christmas night movie and turned off the lights on our house and around our tree. Keri has probably been asleep for an hour or two (she's sick and has to work at 7) and my parents left this afternoon to see my mom's parents. I'm sitting in the kitchen and the only light on in the house is the one that is situated over the front door. The only noises in the house are the dryer directly behind and below me in my split-level home and the soft rolling boil of a pot on the stove evaporating water into a house that is dry enough to make my throat sore. I got a lot of good stuff this year. Mostly cash or cash in the form of a plastic card redeemable at Target. This is, in my opinion, the ideal gift. I was surrounded by family -- some that I like and others I don't. All whom I love because they're my family and even though I don't like them it doesn't mean I wouldn't punch you in the nose for talking bad about them. It's the first Christmas that Cai's really been old enough for me to enjoy with her. She was a funny little girl this year and seemed less shy than she normally is. She got a bunch of stuff that she really loves. "Read this to me, Dad!" The hustle and bustle is over and the Happy Birthday, Jesus cake is halfway eaten. Everyone has their new stuff that in six months no one will remember I gave them (except for Keri). And in six months I won't remember who gave me what except that my parents gave me cash (because they love me) and that Keri gave my a Flippin' Sweet sweatshirt. Life returns to normal and drivers thin out and calm down just a bit. Winter settles in and my face is brittle from the cold by the time I get to work. Snow is a hastle instead of pretty and egg nog leaves the shelves for another 9 months. Between New Year's Day and Easter, only Valentine's Day breaks the monotonously dreary weather and spirits of a season better left forgotten when it's not around. My life is comfortable, but I hope it to be better this time next year. So much to look forward to and so much to gain. And I can't help but hope that Mark is right and every man is dealt a measure of good life and a measure of bad and we've simply gotten the bad out of the way early in our lives. Not that my life has been as hard as many, but I lie in discontent. I see that there can be more and I want it. For once in my life I feel like I'm headed closer to the light at the end of the tunnel instead of it running away from me. So far to go, but at least I'm moving. At least I'm moving. Merry Christmas to all of my readers. And to all a good night.
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