"T'was the night after Christmas and all through the house, Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse. The presents are scattered and broken I fear, And St. Nicholas won't come again for a year," we used to sing in high school chorus as we finished the song, "The Night Before Christmas."
Well, it's the week after Christmas, and I have already lost my favorite gift: expensive leather gloves from my husband. I am sick about it. I'd been so careful to keep up with them on our trip, always tucking them in my purse or the inside pocket of my coat. It really wasn't cold enough to use them in Georgia, but it was terribly cold when we got home.
I had put the gloves on as we headed out in the frigid weather to buy groceries on Saturday, replenishing our stock that I had purposely depleted before our trip ten days before. It was warm in the car, and I remember taking the gloves off, but putting them on when we got out. I must have taken them off in the store, and, I assume, put them in my pocket or purse. But when I wanted to wear them to church Sunday morning, they were no where to be found!
"If I lost them at the grocery store, maybe they've been turned in to Lost and Found," I said hopefully to my husband yesterday. We needed a few things we had forgotten anyway, so we went back. Checking out, I noticed it was my favorite checker on duty, the sweet young lady that reminded me so much of one of our beautiful granddaughters in Georgia. She stopped her work to check a drawer of lost items, pulling out a pair of fleecy cotton gloves, then going to another register and finding a pair of men's gloves. She said they only put money or lost cards in the office, so apparently mine hadn't been turned in. I knew it was a long shot, anyway. They could have been picked up in the parking lot or kept by anyone.
I hadn't expected a present from Howard, since he took me Christmas shopping for myself early and bought me a coat, shoes and a robe. So on Christmas morning, when our daughter handed me two packages, I opened one and found a new book she knew I'd like. I thanked her and started to open the other box in her familiar wrapping paper, when she said, "That one's from Dad." O-oh, so that explained the suspicious activity in a store the day before when she slipped something to Howard and I thought I heard "Here's your card back." He'd had an accomplice in surprising me.
I hadn't bought him anything, so when we passed a jewelry counter, a tray of rings behind glass caught my eye. Howard had lost his wedding band a couple of years ago after wearing it some 53 years. He had placed it on a bedside table, he said, and when he thought about it days later, it was gone. Despite an exhaustive search, it has never been found. "Why don't you get a new wedding band?" I suggested. He found one he loved in our price range, and he is extremely pleased with it.
"Now I feel like I'm married," he teased. The next morning when he woke up and I heard him humming and singing snatches of a song I recognized as "Always," I said, "Do you realize that was our wedding song?" He said he hadn't remembered. It must have been in his subconscious, though. So even though he lost his original wedding band, and I lost my Christmas gloves, we are still banded together, hand in glove, as we welcome a new year tomorrow!
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
The Visit
"Mimi?" a telephone voice I couldn't place inquired. "This is Grant! We are in Oklahoma City and will be passing near you in an hour or two and thought we would stop by!" Oh, our grandson and his bride of six months! We hadn't seen them since their wedding! Of course I wanted them to stop!
Their 90-minute drive should give me enough time to get the house in order. We had just gotten home from a Christmas trip ourselves on Friday night, then after buying groceries on Saturday we had relaxed and recuperated the rest of the day. Today was Sunday, and after coming home from church and cooking a big meal, it was easy to ignore the suitcases still on the bed, clothes spilling over from our searching out something we needed.
Although I'd cleaned house before our trip, what with going through 10-days' mail and generally messing up in our laid-back euphoria of being home, things were in a bit of disarray. I could just close the bedroom doors, but what if they wanted to see the house? Jessica had never been here. I sprang into action and was soon barking orders to my husband for assistance. While he began to hang up his clothes, I freshened up the bathroom, hanging towels and emptying the wastebasket.
Thankfully, I had done the pile of dishes in the sink accumulated from our lunch, breakfast and Saturday's snacks. Also, thankfully, there was no church tonight, so we would be home! Some fast picking up and straightening helped, and while Howard went to the store for snacks and soft drinks, I reinstated Christmas by searching out cords and plugging in the tiny white lights on mantel, nativity scene, little tree and photo displays. Window candles would be inviting, so they were plugged in, too. Just as I finished, I heard them at the door.
The television volume on the Walton's had been lowered, and the fireplace was flickering its welcome. "Wow!" the kids exclaimed when they came into the bright warmth of the room. "This is cozy!" "Where is the bathroom?" was the first question on their respective lips, and I was happy to show them.
"I like this house!" Jessica said of our Craftsman bungalow and my slightly-overdone decor of mismatched pieces from a lifetime of homemaking. We had such a good visit! Family news was discussed, laughs and pictures were shared, with general catching up and clueing our new granddaughter-in-law in on who was who in the family photos. Grant and Pa Pa made plans for fishing when the weather warms up, so perhaps they will stop by again one of these days!
My many grandchildren are rapidly becoming adults, but we have a small crop of young ones, including little Isaac, who will be two months old in a week. We may not be rich in this world's goods, but we are rich in loved ones and always happy to see them!
Their 90-minute drive should give me enough time to get the house in order. We had just gotten home from a Christmas trip ourselves on Friday night, then after buying groceries on Saturday we had relaxed and recuperated the rest of the day. Today was Sunday, and after coming home from church and cooking a big meal, it was easy to ignore the suitcases still on the bed, clothes spilling over from our searching out something we needed.
Although I'd cleaned house before our trip, what with going through 10-days' mail and generally messing up in our laid-back euphoria of being home, things were in a bit of disarray. I could just close the bedroom doors, but what if they wanted to see the house? Jessica had never been here. I sprang into action and was soon barking orders to my husband for assistance. While he began to hang up his clothes, I freshened up the bathroom, hanging towels and emptying the wastebasket.
Thankfully, I had done the pile of dishes in the sink accumulated from our lunch, breakfast and Saturday's snacks. Also, thankfully, there was no church tonight, so we would be home! Some fast picking up and straightening helped, and while Howard went to the store for snacks and soft drinks, I reinstated Christmas by searching out cords and plugging in the tiny white lights on mantel, nativity scene, little tree and photo displays. Window candles would be inviting, so they were plugged in, too. Just as I finished, I heard them at the door.
The television volume on the Walton's had been lowered, and the fireplace was flickering its welcome. "Wow!" the kids exclaimed when they came into the bright warmth of the room. "This is cozy!" "Where is the bathroom?" was the first question on their respective lips, and I was happy to show them.
"I like this house!" Jessica said of our Craftsman bungalow and my slightly-overdone decor of mismatched pieces from a lifetime of homemaking. We had such a good visit! Family news was discussed, laughs and pictures were shared, with general catching up and clueing our new granddaughter-in-law in on who was who in the family photos. Grant and Pa Pa made plans for fishing when the weather warms up, so perhaps they will stop by again one of these days!
My many grandchildren are rapidly becoming adults, but we have a small crop of young ones, including little Isaac, who will be two months old in a week. We may not be rich in this world's goods, but we are rich in loved ones and always happy to see them!
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Count Your Blessings Laundry List
"Look on your back porch when you get home," our son Greg said to his dad when Howard called to tell him we had landed in Oklahoma City, to which I laughed and said, "It's probably Pebbles." They had left for a trip earlier in the same day we got back from ours, and Greg had asked us to go by their house and get their dog to keep for them. He'd likely brought her by the house himself, I concluded.
As soon as we got home, I went to check our enclosed back porch/laundry room. No dog, but there sat a brand new clothes dryer! A Christmas present! Our old dryer had died not long ago and we'd been going to a convenient new laundromat that had just opened nearby. We called to thank him, but Greg said his brother Jamie shared in the surprise, so we called him, too. What thoughtful sons!
Going to the laundromat had begun to lose its novelty, although it wasn't all bad, sitting in the warm atmosphere reading magazines and getting a week's washing dried all at once. Still, those heavy baskets of wet clothes were a chore. I thought I wanted a clothes line, so a couple of years ago we got an outdoor umbrella dryer to use in nice weather. As much as I enjoyed hanging clothes, wash day was killing me! I guess we're just not as young as we used to be!
We're back in reality now that Christmas is over and we are home. It was so nice to enjoy our daughter's beautiful home with no responsibilities, being served tasty meals, going shopping, seeing a couple of new movies, and especially hanging out with the kids. One day 16-year-old Corrin took us to her favorite place and we had the tallest milkshakes served in old-fashioned soda-fountain glasses. Other times we got a kick out of their friends being over, sprawled all over the den or lounging around after sleepovers.
Our Christmas dinner was picture perfect as daughter Amy served up a crown pork roast wearing paper frills, those cute little chef's hats, wild rice dressing, sweet potato casserole (to die for), and all the trimmings. When we had room, we topped off the meal with Red Velvet Cake and/or homemade chocolate bon-bons.
Still, we are glad to be home, snug in our own environment with our books, family photos and a warm hearth surrounded by dear, familiar things. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home, especially when there is warm, fluffy laundry to look forward to!
As soon as we got home, I went to check our enclosed back porch/laundry room. No dog, but there sat a brand new clothes dryer! A Christmas present! Our old dryer had died not long ago and we'd been going to a convenient new laundromat that had just opened nearby. We called to thank him, but Greg said his brother Jamie shared in the surprise, so we called him, too. What thoughtful sons!
Going to the laundromat had begun to lose its novelty, although it wasn't all bad, sitting in the warm atmosphere reading magazines and getting a week's washing dried all at once. Still, those heavy baskets of wet clothes were a chore. I thought I wanted a clothes line, so a couple of years ago we got an outdoor umbrella dryer to use in nice weather. As much as I enjoyed hanging clothes, wash day was killing me! I guess we're just not as young as we used to be!
We're back in reality now that Christmas is over and we are home. It was so nice to enjoy our daughter's beautiful home with no responsibilities, being served tasty meals, going shopping, seeing a couple of new movies, and especially hanging out with the kids. One day 16-year-old Corrin took us to her favorite place and we had the tallest milkshakes served in old-fashioned soda-fountain glasses. Other times we got a kick out of their friends being over, sprawled all over the den or lounging around after sleepovers.
Our Christmas dinner was picture perfect as daughter Amy served up a crown pork roast wearing paper frills, those cute little chef's hats, wild rice dressing, sweet potato casserole (to die for), and all the trimmings. When we had room, we topped off the meal with Red Velvet Cake and/or homemade chocolate bon-bons.
Still, we are glad to be home, snug in our own environment with our books, family photos and a warm hearth surrounded by dear, familiar things. Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home, especially when there is warm, fluffy laundry to look forward to!
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Fear of Flying
"May I see your identification, please?" asked the check-in attendant as she was issuing our boarding passes for our return trip from Georgia. Since we had round-trip tickets, it had slipped my mind to have my driver's license handy. I fumbled for my wallet in the depths of my purse, retrieved it and went to pull my ID from the card slot. It wasn't there!
"Ma'am, my wife is having trouble locating her license. Will any other form of identification work?" my husband implored in his most courteous tone. She gave us the boarding passes, but said they might not admit us through security without ID. Well, thankfully I found it before we got to security in the side pocket of my purse where I had slipped it after producing it for our flight 10 days ago. We hugged our family who had accompanied us as far as security, me holding back tears at parting after such a wonderful Christmas visit with them, not knowing when we would see them again.
Well, we saw them sooner than expected, because the agent said Howard's boarding pass was missing! "We were just issued it!" my husband exclaimed. We went back to where our daughter and grand kids were still standing. I stayed with them while my frustrated spouse and our 19-year-old grandson headed the long way back to the ticket counter in the Atlanta airport. Soon they were back saying it was there all along, the man had just overlooked it!
Relieved goodbyes were said again and we successfully passed through the security gauntlet and negotiated our way through escalators, the speeding bullet that was an airport train, and pulling cumbersome carry-ons the length of the long corridor to our gate. "You're at gate four, Mom," our daughter had said, "You won't have far to walk." She didn't know our walk started at gate 16--a long way to 4!
"Howard, look at these tickets!" I exclaimed when I saw he was in Zone 4, seat 22 A, and I was in Zone 7, 12 E. "We aren't sitting together! I can't put my stuff in the overhead by myself!" He said he would fix it, and after lengthy computer work by the desk attendant, we had new boarding passes sitting together.
What else could go wrong? Well, nothing except my making him spill his drink, until we began to descend to a lower altitude nearing our destination. Then all our aforementioned foibles paled in comparison when I was struck with an unbelievable excruciating pain in my head! It felt like a knife was plunged through my skull into the right side of my head and face! It kept getting worse!
My sinuses! I had had an allergy attack the night before and hadn't slept well. This had happened to me on a flight some thirteen years ago, and I avoided flying for the next eight years, but I'd never had it when flying since. I thought I was having a stroke, and I was terrified! I hung on to the memory that in the previous episode it went away after we landed. Thank God, it did this time, too, but it took awhile.
"Mom, you guys are flying around the country like 20-year-olds," our son Trevor said when he called to see if we had gotten home alright. Although I was truly thankful to be home safely, I laughed a bit ruefully and said, "I don't think I'll be flying again!" It's not the flying that bothers me, it's the coming down!
"Ma'am, my wife is having trouble locating her license. Will any other form of identification work?" my husband implored in his most courteous tone. She gave us the boarding passes, but said they might not admit us through security without ID. Well, thankfully I found it before we got to security in the side pocket of my purse where I had slipped it after producing it for our flight 10 days ago. We hugged our family who had accompanied us as far as security, me holding back tears at parting after such a wonderful Christmas visit with them, not knowing when we would see them again.
Well, we saw them sooner than expected, because the agent said Howard's boarding pass was missing! "We were just issued it!" my husband exclaimed. We went back to where our daughter and grand kids were still standing. I stayed with them while my frustrated spouse and our 19-year-old grandson headed the long way back to the ticket counter in the Atlanta airport. Soon they were back saying it was there all along, the man had just overlooked it!
Relieved goodbyes were said again and we successfully passed through the security gauntlet and negotiated our way through escalators, the speeding bullet that was an airport train, and pulling cumbersome carry-ons the length of the long corridor to our gate. "You're at gate four, Mom," our daughter had said, "You won't have far to walk." She didn't know our walk started at gate 16--a long way to 4!
"Howard, look at these tickets!" I exclaimed when I saw he was in Zone 4, seat 22 A, and I was in Zone 7, 12 E. "We aren't sitting together! I can't put my stuff in the overhead by myself!" He said he would fix it, and after lengthy computer work by the desk attendant, we had new boarding passes sitting together.
What else could go wrong? Well, nothing except my making him spill his drink, until we began to descend to a lower altitude nearing our destination. Then all our aforementioned foibles paled in comparison when I was struck with an unbelievable excruciating pain in my head! It felt like a knife was plunged through my skull into the right side of my head and face! It kept getting worse!
My sinuses! I had had an allergy attack the night before and hadn't slept well. This had happened to me on a flight some thirteen years ago, and I avoided flying for the next eight years, but I'd never had it when flying since. I thought I was having a stroke, and I was terrified! I hung on to the memory that in the previous episode it went away after we landed. Thank God, it did this time, too, but it took awhile.
"Mom, you guys are flying around the country like 20-year-olds," our son Trevor said when he called to see if we had gotten home alright. Although I was truly thankful to be home safely, I laughed a bit ruefully and said, "I don't think I'll be flying again!" It's not the flying that bothers me, it's the coming down!
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Joy to the World
It was Christmas afternoon. The excitement of opening gifts was past, with the special joy of seeing everyone's eyes light up and hear exclamations of delight and/or squeals of unbelief for at least one surprise or hardly-dared-to-hope-for gift. After a hearty brunch, Howard and I were relaxing on the porch swing in the lull before dinner preparations.
The weather had at last changed from muggy, mild temperatures following the heavy rains we'd had earlier in the week. Now the sun was bright, and although the wind was sharp, the cushions of the swing sheltered us a bit, not to mention the warmth of my husband's shoulder next to me. A sense of peace and thankfulness came over me as I thought about God's goodness and about the reason for this special time of year.
It was if God's love was shining down on the planet as the commemoration of the birth of His Son was celebrated around the world, probably the only holiday acknowledged worldwide except for Easter, which marks the culmination of Jesus's earthly life and the provision for our eternal life. In this rarefied atmosphere that comes only once a year, I reflected on the happy crush of shoppers yesterday and the children out this morning playing with new outdoor toys in the beautiful, cold sunshine.
Despite Christmas's being commercialized, Santa-tized and over-sized, the spirit of giving prevails as people reach out to others in efforts large or small, and consciously or unconsciously, follow the divine example of giving. And that's a good thing. St. Nicholas knew and demonstrated that. Even the story of Santa was given as a gift by a father who wanted to inspire wonder in his child.
The term, "Merry Christmas," itself is bestowed to wish joy. Those who say, "Happy Holidays," are saying, perhaps inadvertently, "Happy Holy Days," the origin of the word holiday, although most holidays today are just time off from work.
Close family gatherings and warm, fuzzy feelings are soon over as guests go home and everyday routine is taken up. But if we have Jesus, the true meaning of Christmas in our heart, the joy can abide always. The scriptures teach how we may have eternal life and Christian fellowship that our joy may be full. I John 1:1-4. Merry Christmas!
The weather had at last changed from muggy, mild temperatures following the heavy rains we'd had earlier in the week. Now the sun was bright, and although the wind was sharp, the cushions of the swing sheltered us a bit, not to mention the warmth of my husband's shoulder next to me. A sense of peace and thankfulness came over me as I thought about God's goodness and about the reason for this special time of year.
It was if God's love was shining down on the planet as the commemoration of the birth of His Son was celebrated around the world, probably the only holiday acknowledged worldwide except for Easter, which marks the culmination of Jesus's earthly life and the provision for our eternal life. In this rarefied atmosphere that comes only once a year, I reflected on the happy crush of shoppers yesterday and the children out this morning playing with new outdoor toys in the beautiful, cold sunshine.
Despite Christmas's being commercialized, Santa-tized and over-sized, the spirit of giving prevails as people reach out to others in efforts large or small, and consciously or unconsciously, follow the divine example of giving. And that's a good thing. St. Nicholas knew and demonstrated that. Even the story of Santa was given as a gift by a father who wanted to inspire wonder in his child.
The term, "Merry Christmas," itself is bestowed to wish joy. Those who say, "Happy Holidays," are saying, perhaps inadvertently, "Happy Holy Days," the origin of the word holiday, although most holidays today are just time off from work.
Close family gatherings and warm, fuzzy feelings are soon over as guests go home and everyday routine is taken up. But if we have Jesus, the true meaning of Christmas in our heart, the joy can abide always. The scriptures teach how we may have eternal life and Christian fellowship that our joy may be full. I John 1:1-4. Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
December 24th
What a beautiful Christmas Eve service we attended tonight! We went with our daughter Amy's family to their church in Marietta where Dr. Mark Walker is pastor. After several lovely Christmas carols by soloists and responsive readings from the scriptures, he spoke about how Christmas is all about children. After all, it began with a Baby. Stressing the scripture where Jesus says one cannot enter the kingdom of God unless he becomes as a little child, Dr. Walker compared the trust and utter dependence of children with the way we must relate to our heavenly father.
Several children were in attendance, and the small cherubs in the pew in front of us attracted my attention as their parents tried to keep them occupied. One miniature angel had a sippy cup with a straw that kept her enthralled as she faced backward in the pew. A cascade of silky, blonde hair fell to the shoulders of her slightly bigger sister, making me think of our own blonde granddaughter when she was younger. She has reached the ripe old age of seven, now, but she is still an angel.
To end the program, candles were distributed to everyone in the congregation, including the kids, who were given a battery-operated candle of their own. Candle lighters lit the candles at the ends of the rows, then each person in turn lit the candle of the one next to him, until the whole auditorium was ablaze with light. A picture of spreading the gospel, the light of Jesus, to the world.
When we got home, the kitchen became a confectionery as the female members of the family immersed themselves in making bon bons, otherwise known as Martha Washington balls. Granddaughter Corrin painstakingly chopped to perfection walnut and pecan meats, while Amy pointed out the advantages of using a mixer to blend the butter, powdered sugar and sweetened condensed milk over my mixing the concoction by hand. Then Rachel got in on the act as we all rolled a hundred or so balls of it to dip in the shiny, chocolate coating.
The teenagers were good at this, but it took all hands to finish the product. Then Amy arranged them on a silver platter and set them on the screened porch to cool in the crisp night air. Judging from the responses of the samplers, they turned out to be delicious! (The dipped pretzels we made yesterday are all gone.)
Earlier I had rushed home from town to make a pot of potato soup for an early Christmas Eve dinner before we set off for the services. I had just finished it when the others came in from shopping. I wasn't hungry and went to get ready for church, thinking I might eat some when we got back. They all said it was good, but by the time I made it to the leftovers, they had already found their way into soup bowls held by my granddaughters who wanted a bedtime snack. That was okay. With all the candy sampling, I wasn't hungry anyway. Fellowship with family and the afterglow of attending church on Christmas Eve left me quite full and satisfied!
Several children were in attendance, and the small cherubs in the pew in front of us attracted my attention as their parents tried to keep them occupied. One miniature angel had a sippy cup with a straw that kept her enthralled as she faced backward in the pew. A cascade of silky, blonde hair fell to the shoulders of her slightly bigger sister, making me think of our own blonde granddaughter when she was younger. She has reached the ripe old age of seven, now, but she is still an angel.
To end the program, candles were distributed to everyone in the congregation, including the kids, who were given a battery-operated candle of their own. Candle lighters lit the candles at the ends of the rows, then each person in turn lit the candle of the one next to him, until the whole auditorium was ablaze with light. A picture of spreading the gospel, the light of Jesus, to the world.
When we got home, the kitchen became a confectionery as the female members of the family immersed themselves in making bon bons, otherwise known as Martha Washington balls. Granddaughter Corrin painstakingly chopped to perfection walnut and pecan meats, while Amy pointed out the advantages of using a mixer to blend the butter, powdered sugar and sweetened condensed milk over my mixing the concoction by hand. Then Rachel got in on the act as we all rolled a hundred or so balls of it to dip in the shiny, chocolate coating.
The teenagers were good at this, but it took all hands to finish the product. Then Amy arranged them on a silver platter and set them on the screened porch to cool in the crisp night air. Judging from the responses of the samplers, they turned out to be delicious! (The dipped pretzels we made yesterday are all gone.)
Earlier I had rushed home from town to make a pot of potato soup for an early Christmas Eve dinner before we set off for the services. I had just finished it when the others came in from shopping. I wasn't hungry and went to get ready for church, thinking I might eat some when we got back. They all said it was good, but by the time I made it to the leftovers, they had already found their way into soup bowls held by my granddaughters who wanted a bedtime snack. That was okay. With all the candy sampling, I wasn't hungry anyway. Fellowship with family and the afterglow of attending church on Christmas Eve left me quite full and satisfied!
Monday, December 23, 2013
The Ties that Bind
Bonding. That's what I was doing with my granddaughters today as we dipped pretzels and peanut butter sandwich crackers into chocolate almond bark. Last night after I retired, they helped their parents make Oreo cake balls. This afternoon I bought the ingredients for Martha Washington dipped candy, something we used to make for holidays when my children were little. How the price for goody makings has gone up! We spent $25 for the project!
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! A day that will likely be spent in anticipation and preparation for the big day. In the evening, we plan to go to a Christmas Eve service with our daughter and family at their big church in the Atlanta suburbs. I'm looking forward to it, especially since they say it is always a wonderful service.
When our children were growing up, it was our tradition to open gifts on Christmas Eve. There was something so cozy and special about it with the house shining and the kids' eyes bright with excitement as we awaited their father's return from work, then supper, and at last opening presents. They played until they were exhausted, then fell into bed, as likely as not with a new toy or possession tucked in beside them or at least within easy reach, dreaming of what the contents of their stockings would be in the morning.
Now most of our kids' families wait until Christmas morning for the gift opening, which they find to their liking, or possibly they are following the tradition of their spouses. That is what we will do here at our daughter's home. Then a special breakfast will be enjoyed, followed by preparations for Christmas dinner.
I can't believe we've been here almost a week already. We will go home two days after Christmas and fall back into our own comfortable routine, but missing the energy and activity that comes from three teenagers in the house. Actually, sometimes it's four, as a friend sleeps over, or sometimes only one or two if absentees are spending the night at the homes of friends. Kids are such social creatures! I want them here all the time so I can enjoy them, but being with their peers is high on their priority list right now.
Since we flew here, we are dependent on others for transportation, and our 16-year-old granddaughter is a willing chauffeur, as is her 19-year-old brother when he is available. How strange! It used to be us taking them to school, and now they are the ones carrying our purchases, closing our car doors and locating items on the shelves of stores. We will miss them!
Tomorrow is Christmas Eve! A day that will likely be spent in anticipation and preparation for the big day. In the evening, we plan to go to a Christmas Eve service with our daughter and family at their big church in the Atlanta suburbs. I'm looking forward to it, especially since they say it is always a wonderful service.
When our children were growing up, it was our tradition to open gifts on Christmas Eve. There was something so cozy and special about it with the house shining and the kids' eyes bright with excitement as we awaited their father's return from work, then supper, and at last opening presents. They played until they were exhausted, then fell into bed, as likely as not with a new toy or possession tucked in beside them or at least within easy reach, dreaming of what the contents of their stockings would be in the morning.
Now most of our kids' families wait until Christmas morning for the gift opening, which they find to their liking, or possibly they are following the tradition of their spouses. That is what we will do here at our daughter's home. Then a special breakfast will be enjoyed, followed by preparations for Christmas dinner.
I can't believe we've been here almost a week already. We will go home two days after Christmas and fall back into our own comfortable routine, but missing the energy and activity that comes from three teenagers in the house. Actually, sometimes it's four, as a friend sleeps over, or sometimes only one or two if absentees are spending the night at the homes of friends. Kids are such social creatures! I want them here all the time so I can enjoy them, but being with their peers is high on their priority list right now.
Since we flew here, we are dependent on others for transportation, and our 16-year-old granddaughter is a willing chauffeur, as is her 19-year-old brother when he is available. How strange! It used to be us taking them to school, and now they are the ones carrying our purchases, closing our car doors and locating items on the shelves of stores. We will miss them!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)