The Wreaths Are Still Up

We hardly need more green in this soggy land of cedar, hemlock, and fir but the wreaths are still up on this Western Day of Epiphany, this Eastern Christmas Day. The gingerbread house has been consumed. All else is packed away. Another of the second generation has a Lionel train from grandpa. The house is quiet. All is at peace.

When one is well into their 8th decade, Christmas brings less joy than silent satisfaction, more nostalgia than excitement, a more somber reflective mood while letting it all swirl about him. Not sad; just that he’s been here before, has nothing left to ask of Santa (that Santa has in his power to give,) and too little understanding of children’s and grandchildren’s wants and needs (that he has in his power to give.) And he knows that another Christmas will come rushing at him unbidden and he increasingly unprepared.

A new year. We made much of 2010, for many such a lousy year, for most merely a tolerable one. We spent retirement money on together experiences and will do so again in this, our 20th year of marriage.

May 2011 turn out to be a pleasant surprise for everyone, a year in which we all stay well and do good… keep moving … practice empathy … and follow through on good intentions. Peace, love and laughter....