Tuesday, December 24, 2002

There are things that I like about Christmas.
I like cards. I used to love finding a great card to send and it is the one time a year I know I’ll hear from some old friends. Starmama sent an e-card the other day. What an amazing and sweet thing to do.
I love having a tree. I love the smell. I love having things that you pull out of a box once a year and remember when and where you got them as you hang them on the tree. I have some origami birds from Karen. Every year I hang them up and picture Karen making them.
I like the music. I have a few discs I put on every year. Mom & Ken get music through their satellite so we are listening to Christmas music from that. It’s kind of like living in an elevator.
I don’t have any money or time. I haven’t sent any cards to anyone. I’m far away from my own stuff. I’m not feeling it.
But I do have three packages under a ceramic tree on the hutch in the dining room. Two from Kristina and on from Karen. They look suspiciously like books and I’m almost as excited about seeing which ones they are as I was to see if I got a Chatty Cathy doll. I’m making oyster stew for dinner tonight and pork loin with sweet potatoes and asparagus for tomorrow.
Ken fell yesterday. His physical therapist was here and they were walking up and down the hall and into the kitchen. I heard her say look up and then I hear a thud. His leg just gave out. I’ve been living in fear of him falling. I ran to the kitchen. She was very calm. She got him onto a foot stool and then onto a folding chair and then onto his wheel chair. It was so smart. I think I could even do it alone if I had to. He can help with his arms but not his legs. He seemed fine enough. All things considered. I put the heating pad on his back. He does seem tired.
Mom is OK. She’s baking another kind of cookie.
I’m working on my puzzle. It’s tedious and contemplative work. It feels a bit like a Tibetan sand painting. 1500 pieces is a lot. Tibetan monks will do sand paintings for people when they’re on a journey. They’re so beautiful when they’re done. And then they sweep up the sand and put it in the ocean. I’m going to finish this puzzle and then take it apart and put it back in the box. I don’t know. I think it’s supposed to be a meditation on impermanence. For me it’s just about being able to make some thing fit some where.
I don’t feel Christmas. But I do feel love.
It rained really hard last night and all morning. The creek is running over it’s banks and into the yard. The tree out side the office window has drops of rain hanging from the branches. They are hanging in perfect lines with equal spaces between them. No strand of electric lights could be that perfect. They glitter with what light is pushing through the clouds. A few intrepid squirrels are running about.
I am having a hard time emotionally. But I am also warm and fed and …on line.
I do feel love.
If I were home I might try to make a special pretty page with a poem or a picture of me as a kid in front of a tree. Or something. I might have linked to the advent calendar and lyrics for songs. I might have written more about the holidays that aren’t Christian and tried to write about war and peace. But I just have a few minutes to publish.
Today and every day I wish you love and beauty.
Merry Christmas to all.
And to all a good night.

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