2013

‎2013.
Stepping back.
Looking in.
Be.

Namaste.

Crushed!

My children have just dealt me a crushing blow. I'm reeling from the shock.

Since I was little, one of my favorite Christmas traditions was watching my mother roll out the made-from-scratch sugar cookie dough while we listened to her favorite Christmas album, helping to cut the shapes, patiently wait for them to bake and cool, and then decorate. (The decorating allowed my and my siblings' OCD tendencies to shine through.)

I couldn't wait for this tradition to happen in my home. I even searched out and found the hard to find out of publication Christmas album!

My children have just all informed me of what their favorite Christmas cookie is. And not a single one of them, and there are four of cookie eating age, have chosen the cut-outs! Gasp! Horror!

These favorites of mine, which I so long for in June, and while I can simply make more, it just doesn't feel right without the refrains of "Come On Ring Those Bells" echoing through my head.

The cookie container has about two dozen of these treats left. I'm left now to only savor them, each bite, because I have a feeling that they won't grace the top of my cupboards next year.

When You Don't Know What to Say

Friday afternoon I watched the TV, waiting on my husband to gather my girls from their schools and bring them home where we could cuddle up in love and gratitude. Comfort ourselves following something we never could imagine.

I sobbed on the phone to my mother wondering, simply, why. And how, as a mother, would these women carry on?

The news channel I was watching had a psychologist on. He was asked by the news anchor, how do you move forward, what do you say? He gave the answer below.

"I cannot fathom the depths of your grief. I give you credit for your courage. I think that somewhere out of your incredible wound could come extraordinary sensitivity such that you will become an incredible gift to other people in life. And yet I hesitate to even ask that of you knowing how much you are suffering. And yet I know that is possible from you, but I don't pretend to know everything you are feeling, and I invite you to tell me. Please tell me, because silence is the enemy of healing here."-Dr. Keith Ablow

For Newtown: The Words I Would Say

Friday morning, and all weekend long, I cried and grieved, like everyone else I know. Though not touching our lives very deeply, there are names on the list that we know, names of people in Heaven now, names of families suffering a pain we can never, ever imagine.

4:00 AM Saturday morning, my baby woke me, needing what I can provide for him. This song came to mind, and has stayed all weekend.


The Words I Would Say, Sidewalk Prophets

The Words I Would Say, by Sidewalk Prophets

Three in the morning,
And I'm still awake,
So I picked up a pen and a page,
And I started writing,
Just what I'd say,
If we were face to face,
I'd tell you just what you mean to me,
I'd tell you these simple truths,

Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
These are the words I would say,

Last time we spoke,
You said you were hurting,
And I felt your pain in my heart,
I want to tell you,
That I keep on praying,
Love will find you where you are,
I know cause I've already been there,
So please hear these simple truths,

Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
These are the words I would say,

From one simple life to another,
I will say,
Come find peace in the Father,

Be strong in the Lord and,
Never give up hope,
You're going to do great things,
I already know,
God's got His hand on you so,
Don't live life in fear,
Forgive and forget,
But don't forget why you're here,
Take your time and pray,
Thank God for each day,
His love will find a way,
These are the words I would say 

The Evolution of a Christmas Tree

Thirteen years ago, basking in the newness of wedded bliss, my husband and I were excited to get our first, very own, ours, beautiful Christmas tree.

We were grown up. Finally.

Gone were the hideous ornaments of our youth. There would be no tacky, glittery reindeer hands hanging on our tree. It was going to be a pretty tree.

We scoured Pottery Barn sale racks looking for the perfect ornaments to hang on our perfect tree. We bought ornaments in odd numbers, as my designer husband did not want things to be symmetrical. We strung white lights, as these were mature, responsible, acceptable. No colored lights. Shudder.

Fast forward. 2012.

My, how our tree has evolved.

Colored lights! Not a single ornament matches! There are pipecleaner candy canes galore. Pictures of our babies in not-so-perfect light, with not-so-perfect faces adorn the boughs.

There are ornaments that recognize major milestones in our little world. The house ornament given to us when we bought our first, and only, home. The angel that hangs front and center, reminding us of some of the loss in our early marriage. The reindeer and snowflake taken from a childhood home. The golden circles that for so long hung on a grandfather's tree. The Dunkin Donuts coffee cup, that, upon hanging, brought me a torrent of tears, sadness and memories of a friend who's passed on, and a longing for that simpler life we had, when hurts were less, friends were truer, and confidence was more.

After the children finished up their minty hot cocoa and went to up to bed, we rearranged some of the clumps of ornaments that hung three feet up from the ground, in the middle of the tree, and moved some higher up, where little arms simply couldn't reach. And we stood back to look at our tree, proclaiming that this year, as we have every year before, this tree is the best one we ever had.

The Year the Magic Went Away

The Tooth Fairy almost got caught last night. My daughter woke up as the Fairy was attempting to make the swap, tooth for money. I'm not sure if it was the creak of the old wooden floors or the creak in the Fairy's aging knees.

The Tooth Fairy managed to sneak the $1 bill under her pillow, but was not able to sneak the tooth out. So we came up with a believable excuse as to why the tooth was still there. She seemed to be satisfied with that, though the topic was often brought up at the breakfast table.

But this comes on the heels of yesterday, when she told us that "some kids" were telling her that Santa was a fake. Here comes the end of her innocence, at the age of 9.

I never believed in Santa, or the Tooth Fairy, or the Easter Bunny, or trick-or-treated on Halloween. My parents felt strongly that the belief in this was in direct conflict with the religious beliefs they want to instill in my siblings and me as children. I do have a small memory of once finding an Easter Basket behind the living room piano. That was somewhere around age 3. That was it. And I do remember finding Cabbage Patch Dolls hiding in the basement when I was 9 or 10.

I'm not saying that my parents were wrong in growing us up this way. We never "outted" any magic to any other kids who did believe. Growing up we siblings knew the reason behind the Christmas Season (and Easter beyond), which my husband and I teach to our own children. The above mentioned friends are simply helpers during their holiday, spreading a little magic around.  My husband and I simply wanted to enjoy these parts of growing up with our children, so we do.

My husband asked our daughter last night if she believed Santa was real. She said, "Yes," but she didn't sound as solidly convinced as she was the day before, and the day before, and the day before.

I'm hoping that this little boy at school keeps his mouth quiet, and that we are able to pull this off for another year. I know it won't last forever, but I'm not ready for the Christmas and Santa magic to be gone from her beautiful smile.

Translation

This has long been one of my favorite verses in the Bible, and I like to think that I live up to it, as well.
I came across this translation last week, and I really like it.

A friend is there to help, in any situation, and relatives are born to share our troubles. - Proverbs 17:17 (CEV)