I wake up with a head stuffed better than any stocking ever could be. Last Saturday I caught one bug, just to have it exterminated for another bug to move in the very day my stomach started to come to it’s senses and settle down and live life with the rest of me.
So for a solid week I have not felt so good.
But for the mood. The physical part of me has taken a beating. But the part of me that responds to the season, the love, and the meaning of life is doing just fine.
We spent an evening with family. We drove mom home through the quiet and snowy evening. Lights were bright against the dark of the hour. And brighter yet as they bounced off of the snow. Or twinkled through the freshly flying snow fluffies.
We woke to a morning with no stress. No demands. Low key and perfect. Well, you think it’s perfect anyway. Until it gets closer to when the kids are suppose to be here. Then you realize what you miss. And as they start to arrive the house comes alive and little people carry a gift all their own when they walk in your door bearing love and hugs.
I don’t stand on pretense. If you’re hungry, eat. Thirsty? Drink. There’s no waiting. No perfect table to be set. Just eat. Then there’s gifts, of course. And the older you get the more truth there is when a parent says “I don’t need anything”. I sure appreciate the gifts they bring. But it’s them that really matter. Watching them. Being near them. Giving. Talking. Laughing. Those things really do matter.
As the smallest of us slept in my arms, I couldn’t fight it. My head was so heavy. My eyes so against staying open. They forced themselves shut. And the wee one and me, we slept. I likely only slept a moment or two. And I felt bad about falling asleep. But it was a perfect sleep. Some were talking. Some were not. Me and the wee-est we just slept, safely.
Every one has many places to go, many people to share the love with. What a blessing.
So they hugged and loved us on their way out the door.
And I sit here with my stuffed head and over stuffed heart.
Merry Christmas World.