Friday, December 27, 2013

CHRISTMAS THOUGHTS



I once saw a picture of a small boy peering into a store window, at Christmas time; his rosy red nose and cheeks were pressed against the cold glass—almost as if it was a scene taken out of one of Norman Rockwell’s paintings. Inside the store there was a Christmas party going on for a group of children. Santa was there, and the tables were filled with lots of sugary food, beverages and gifts. It was obvious from the merriment going on that it was a very happy occasion for those in the party. The look on the little boy’s face, outside that window, was not one so much of sadness, but more of bewilderment. Maybe he had never known celebrations like this existed, but then, maybe he did know they existed but couldn’t understand why he was excluded. He watched for a while, and then went over and turned the knob on the door, but it was locked. Then someone noticed him and went over to the window, pulling the shade down.

A sometimes lavish lifestyle that brings happiness to some can have just the opposite effect to those who are on the outside looking in.  I’m not just talking about material things. I’m talking about being a part of a celebration, too. I remember growing up poor, and although I was never one to envy others and what they had, I could never figure out why they weren’t happier about their wealth. So many of them took it in stride, as if they were entitled to it, and I never saw that spirit of thankfulness they should have had.  Some of the things they took for granted would have made me almost giddy.  But, for the most part, I was thinking as a child would think back then. Yes, I was treating tangible things as important things in life, but something about being excluded made it become even more hurtful.

Way back then, I was on the other side of that glass looking in, and although the door was probably not locked, I never thought I was worthy of going in. Over the years, as I grew both in knowledge and wealth, I was able to open that door and join the party. But, for some reason, my joy of being there was always tempered by the sad looks on the faces of those on the other side of the glass; for I had been there and I knew how it felt, and although I couldn’t pull that shade down, yet I wasn’t asking them in. Two years ago, I was back on the outside of the glass looking in as an adult, not because I wasn’t invited to the party but because I ostracized myself. You see, my reason for going to the party was gone. Oh, she was there in spirit, but my spirits were at a low ebb and I was in no mood for a party. I preferred to be outside with my thoughts. You see, that intricate prescription for the essence of Christmas goes so much deeper than gifts and giving. The basic ingredient for happiness has always been, and always will be, people. I learned that more, at that time, than at any other time in my life.

Both open doors, and open hearts, have something in common. We’ve removed the barriers that separate us—and isn’t that what we always wanted. To belong to someone or something and to be a part of somebody’s life. To be wanted has always been special but to be wanted and needed—that’s special personified. Loneliness almost always imparts feelings of worthlessness, and that’s just one step above having no value to anyone at all. Christmas can go a long way towards fixing that.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

CHRISTMAS 2013


                                               
I have always found it interesting, as we go through the calendar year, all of the holidays and celebrations we entertain at and how Christmas seems to be not so much a Holiday, as a season onto itself. Most of the other days we celebrate are a daylong or at best a long weekend but Christmas has weeks of preparation both commercially and religiously. No day of celebration packs more good will into it then Christmas. It’s a time of the year when people open their hearts and minds to try and make it their best Christmas ever. It’s a time of the year when people are most benevolent and when sharing and caring seems to go hand in hand. Most people could care less if you have a bad Fourth of July but we all want to have a nice Christmas. So the Grinch that rears his head in all of us from time to time seems to be magically put to rest, albeit for a short while. Yes, Christian or not, there is something magical and almost mystical about Christmas.

We live in an increasingly anxious world so those few weeks of good will amongst all of us, are a welcome break from the suspicions and sometimes allusiveness we experience amongst us on a daily basis. It’s a chance to come out of our armor and rub shoulders with our friends and neighbors again.  I’ve had to give Christmas a fresh chance again in my life because for a couple of years after my wife died, it was just too hard, and although I might have fooled a few, I didn’t fool myself. It took the efforts of a loving family and a caring friend to put the Joy back in Christmas for me but it’s back and so am I. But as I speak this year I know there are those who are just starting that same sad journey and my heart goes out to you. God bless you so much.

I write a lot about memories and how important they are to all of us but there are no memories like Christmas memories, are there? I think back to little kids so anxious they could hardly contain themselves, as they sat patiently waiting for the gift-giving extravaganza we orchestrated. The one that led them to that beautifully decorated tree on Christmas Eve. Our kids, our grandkids, our friend’s kids, their smiles are etched forever in my memory but now for many of us elders there has been a subtle change hasn’t there, as life has passed us by. Still though we thank God for the very reason this all came about. The gifts will eventually get used up and discarded but the gift of our lord and our memories will never go away.

Many years ago Elvis sang, “Why can’t every day be like Christmas? Why can’t that feeling go on endlessly? For if every day could be like Christmas. What a wonderful world this would be.” Yes, the sadness that comes when we take the tree down and put away the decorations seems to be saying to us “it’s over for another year, so lets get back to life as we know it.” But if nothing else comes from this Christmas, except the love and caring this world so sorely needs-- even if it was only for a short while-- then it’s been another Blessed Christmas hasn’t it?

Merry Christmas.  Love to all. --Mike            

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

THANKSGIVING THOUGHTS


                                               

It’s Thanksgiving morning and although it’s been over two years, it’s still not right. I used to get up on this morning to the sounds of turkey gizzards and all of those other useless bird parts sizzling in a frying pan because she was making her dressing. It was an old recipe that came from her mother and she guarded it like Coke guards their soda formula. She would have a dab of flour on one cheek and a blotch of it on her sweatshirt, as she rolled out that piecrust, proudly made with real lard. It had to be just right and many was the time she sighed with exasperation and rolled it back into a ball to start over again. I would ask, “how can I help?” and she would just say with that impish smile “Don’t bother me.” This was her gift to her family, to make that Thanksgiving Day meal. I was just the nuts and bolts of the family but she was always the heart and soul.

Every bed in the house would be full of sleeping grandkids and their parents. A half put together puzzle was on the dining room table and a monopoly game was still spread out on the living room floor. The entryway was filled with boots and hats and two dogs were whining at the back door to go out. The driveway was full of cars and in the house she would have decorated, with those little paper turkeys, the horn of plenty centerpiece and those special kitchen towels with all the colored leaves and gourds on them. Empty soda cans and dirty cups were everywhere from last nights gathering. The dogs had finished off the half eaten pieces of pizza and busted cookies. That Halloween tablecloth was always there and it always stayed on the table until after the meal when the Christmas one came out like the changing of the guard. It always took three tables to feed everybody and then afterwards the men would do the dishes while watching the football game and the kids and grandma, and their mom’s, would work on their shopping lists for tomorrow.

I think a lot about those days and how I knew someday it would all be different. Oh it’s not just her passing that was a bitter pill to swallow. Kids grew up and moved away. Dogs died and kids found mates and new people came into our family. Always welcomed-- but it did spread things out even more. So now we’re back to today and an empty house and the only noise is my dog breathing and the click of the keys on my keyboard, as I’m trying to paint you a picture of my thoughts and memories. I’ve accepted what’s happened and although I always knew it would come someday, I’m not alone by any means. There are friends and family who have empty chairs at their tables today too, but not empty hearts. They can take a lot away from us but they can’t take that away can they? Somehow we can always bring them back like this, on the holidays and we thank God for that.

Later today I will travel to my friends house where she has graciously invited me to share her family and their tradition. They are wonderful loving people and I’m so blest to have them in my life. It won’t be the same—it will never be the same—the stage may be similar but its a whole new cast and I realize that there is no way to recreate what I had and no one is trying to do that. They are just helping me to move on, by sharing their love and I for one am so grateful. -----Mike