Coming down after Christmas. Emotionally, I mean.
It's a grieving process, of sorts. After the catecholamine surge of getting the dinner on the table hot and steamy, seating people so nobodys feelings are hurt, going through the exhaustion that follows a 4 day meal prep (which is eaten in 20 minutes), shaking off the tryptophan tiredness, and the aftermath of an empty house...let's just say it was a bit anticlimactic.
It gives me pause to remember why we celebrate all of this, anyway. Oh yea. Him. The Gift. The One who made all of this possible, the up and the down. The way He'd always planned it.
Now I feel better. No really, I do.
Rather than a season of good buys, this was a season of good byes for me.
Good bye to shopping - I did next-to-none other than a few gifts online. I didn't try to out-do anybody, knowing full well He already had. Who can compete with that??
Good bye as the kids, one by one, return to their respective lives.
Good bye to LuckyPuppy, though despite the denial by everyone but me that he's actually dying, his next Christmas will be from the Bridge.
Good bye to my laptop, dying a slow death as I type from an attached USB keyboard, all of which requires balance and coordination which said good bye many years ago.
Good bye to a year of hard work and some "uncomfortableness" which means simply bringing in another one of the same, yet not saying good bye to the faith and strength that has so graciously allowed me to perservere. The faith that allows me to firmly trust that I am enslaved to no one or nothing as long as I choose to follow Jesus with a servant's heart, knowing this plan of His is unfolding in my life and I may as well submit or be dead. That's a hard pill for a control freak to swallow. But I have learned so many lessons along the way.
Good bye to the BHTC. It was nice knowing you for over 15 years and I miss you and the friendships it provided. Even though I promised to stay in touch, I didn't. Keep me in mind for Rudy's on Wednesday. I'll make it eventually. I know everyone was dying to receive my White Elephant gift this year. My laptop wallpaper even got the boot.
So as I feel the years creeping in and the tooth getting long, I gaze out the window this afternoon to see this:
Yes, that's Ron Burgundy next to what appears to be a snowman.
And he's talking to himself (Ron, not the snowman). It's my guess he's talking to the Great Snowmaker and He must also be the Great Multitasker because He's listening to me at the same time.
And when the snowman's done, he comes in to share his boyish joy (yes, one can be a "boy" at 58) and happily obliges me a photo op. This fully-grown man has taken time to relive the simple joy of recreating a childhood memory.
All. By. Himself. Sorta.
He took his sadness of the post-holiday empty-nest mood and purposefully, intentionally, cast it to the winter wind, smashed it into a snowball. And another. And another.
And stuck a carrot in it for good measure.
He needed very little earthly "stuff" to get this job done. Just the heaven-sent snow, random rocks, oh, and perhaps Christmas lights for a mouth?
It would serve us all well to go back to the simple things that can bring us happy thoughts. Safe thoughts. Peaceful thoughts.
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