Wednesday, December 01, 2010
I must say, when you arrive on our door step each year, I am always surprised how quickly you got here. Wasn't I just visiting with September the other day? My stars, how the months do pass. I know too that your visit will feel shorter still. The hubbub of the holidays make your days such blur and you blend them together in a way that, somehow, makes days fly while gifting us with moments that we can truly treasure at the same time. I think that is what makes you so lovable. It isn't just the gifts we give each other on the 25th, but the gifts our hearts receive when open to your warmth. Truly, despite your frigid temps, you radiate amazing warmth. I love you, December, and I am so happy you are here.
I gush though, and I must get down to business before you are gone. I have been meaning you ask you something. What do you think it is about twinkle lights that puts a twinkling in our eyes and in our hearts this time of year, D? And I don't want to hear that silly line about a "magician never reveals his secrets" either. How is it that the coldest days make me curl my toes inside my socks, swaddle myself under another blanket, hot cocoa and peppermints at my side, and although I should be cranky and condemning the snow, I have a grin from ear to ear? How do you do it?
You know what, I just decided that I don't want to know. Keep your secret magical ways to yourself. Knowing how the trick is done always makes it less exciting to see again. It was bad enough having to hear about Santa when we were kids. Christmas morning was never the same after that until I had children of my own that brought him back to life. Now we are inching ever closer to losing him again. So... NO... I changed my mind... don't tell me how you work your magic on us. Forget I asked.
Today I am going to be starting to decorate the house all merry and bright. I will tune the radio to seasonal songs, and stay in my pajamas all day long. I will move furniture around to make room for our Christmas tree and drag lots of boxes up from the basement that are over stuffed with tradition. I can't wait to see my favorite ornaments again and our old star. Do you remember the sock we embroidered on Lauren's first Christmas? Oh, and the pickle Jacob made with the sequins on it? Ron always hangs the golf ball ornament and Andrew has already made a couple of giant 3d snowflakes for the windows. I was kinda silly the other day. I had already hung all the lights on the house just before Thanksgiving, but when I plugged them in on that Thursday, I just wasn't happy. So, Monday, I took them all down, promptly returned those chilly blue hued lights back to the store, and got myself some new old style lights. I am positively giddy about them. Lights need an aura that glows, and oh how the new old lights glow.
I have no doubt that I will spend many of my hours with you putting some love into handmade gifts for this family of mine over the coming weeks. Honestly, though, my ambitions aren't too great this year. The boys are getting to the age where they rather unwrap video games than Momma-made pajama pants. I am okay with that. I know it is just a stage, and they will come back around eventually. I am still going to make them carry the tree to the car when we cut it down and they will have to ice cookies if they plan on eating them.
Anyway, I am rambling now. See, see, what I mean about your tricks with time? Suddenly my first morn with you is gone in a blink and yet I have these few cherished moments of reflection that makes me feel like the morning lasted forever. You are such a clever fella.
Yours every year,
ps... I just thought I would mention that Christmas lights in the rain actually make me a little sad, December. So you can start dishing out the snow anytime now. I won't complain about a few feet of fluffy stuff one bit. ;)
(just a few hours after this post...)