No, today is not day 12 in the countdown to Christmas, it is day 10. I had worked on a series of stories for the 12 day countdown, and in the middle of the night Monday, I woke up with the impression that I needed to start fresh and bring the stories to you with an entirely different outlook. So, after a little fussing and maybe some arguing with God about "all the time and thought" that I had already put in, I realized that the reason that His ideas kept coming back into my head and heart and making me melt into puddles of warmth and smiles was because, I already knew the obvious. He was right. So here we go again.
Over the past week, I've posted a couple of stories that reached so many and the comments and emails that I received warmed me and led me a little further down my spiritual path. With a smile and a quiet thank-you, I once again shared my thoughts with the One that planted those seeds and put one of my dear friends in my path to bring me further inspiration.
Twelve days of Christmas is now down to ten, and here is the story.
We have had some insanely crazy, whacked out unseasonably cold weather here in Georgia. All it takes is plummeting temps or brisk winds bringing in an Alberta clipper or a freak snow or ice event, and my head decides to explode from the pressure changes. Monday night, I couldn't sleep. it had been ridiculously cold all day and the wind would blow your thoughts away as well as turn any perfect coif into the Nightmare Before Christmas!
Tossing and turning, I finally conceded and grabbed my pillows, my wonder dog and wearily made me way to the couch in the living room so I could do the old Vicks routine, prop up and maybe, just maybe, go back to sleep and not disturb my snoring husband in the process. (He detests the smell of Vicks and it will even wake him up from a sound sleep if I put it under my nose.)
After a few moments of finding blankets and fluffing up the dog's bed, trying to figure out how to turn off those confounded blue function lights on the DVR, I finally, finally got settled in, dog in his bed, me Vicks'd and covered with the only quilt I could find in the dark. Prop up, lay down, turn on my side, prop up again. Oh well, sleep just wasn't happening, so I did what I always do when I can't sleep. I laid there and just talked to God. I am well familiar with these late night conversations. I am not now and have never been a good sleeper. Boy, I envy those people that can take professional cat nap's like nurses and doctors. Must be nice, but I have never been able to do it. Somehow, I manage to squeak by on 3 or 4 hours sleep a night until I absolutely cave in and literally fall asleep sitting straight up on the couch or somewhere else that provides me a comfy crashing spot for the moment, and then, I sleep like death. I used to blame it on my kids, but now, I think I'm just hard wired that way. So far, so good, except for the circles under my eyes that unfortunately have their own circles under them. My brain just never turns off and I have a tendency to think myself into sleep deprivation regularly.
Headache in tow, enlightening conversations with my Maker, I laid on the couch until the wee hours of the morning. Sleep finally happened around 6 or so. What a blessing. But what came after the sleep was the result of the many conversations I had had throughout the long, chilly night with God.
Ever had one of those days, when your head so was so filled with memories of all of the special things, that you couldn't even begin to sort them out enough to enjoy them?
I have so many wonderful memories of Christmas and they are lined up and ready to share with you. My wish for you is that I want you to use this as a beginning. So, take the time to sit back and think and let your memories take you back to a time when things were simpler or easier or maybe just more fun, because you were a kid and now, you are a grown-up, at least you're supposed to be. It's the memories and the love that we carry with us all of the time that keep us young and make each day special. They make the daily issues we have to deal with as a "grown-up" seem a little less intimidating. As my mother reminds me regularly, getting old is not for sissies! She's right!
The earliest Christmas I can remember, I was the ONLY grandchild, and maybe a little spoiled as a result. I remember a pull toy that my grandfather got for me. I was terrified of it. It was a cow, and it made noise and moved a little when you coaxed it a long. And kitchen sets with cupboards just my size and dishes and dolls. I loved "baby" dolls. Seems like I remember a Tiny Tears doll that had eyes that rolled and real hair. And she would wet her diaper too! But then, I had a tomboy side in me, and there were Daisy air rifles and Dale Evans cowgirl outfits complete with guns and holsters. I could outrun, out jump, out climb any boy in our neighborhood whenever I wanted, but underneath that cowgirl exterior was a little girl that loved to play house and dolls.
As I got older, and obviously the rest of the family grew, I eventually had some cousins, and a wonderful brother. However, I got the glory of being the ONLY anything for almost ten years and it was so awesome! I got to travel from one end of the country to the other, eat steak and lobster, meet very important people and be the apple of my grandpa's eyes.
At Christmas, I remember him with even more love. His birthday was on the 11th and he would have been 101. He was so sick when he passed away. He had dealt with cancer for awhile, and lived his life setting little goals. One of which was to live to be 80, which he did. He passed away just 3 days later on the 14th of December. It's never easy. We made the trip to Ohio for his services. Ice and snow covered the ground and we were so cold standing at the graveside. I don't think I will ever forget that day.
Some of my fondest Christmas memories are of time with my grandparents. Historically, my grandmother always had an artificial tree, and it seemed like it was always the latest, greatest available at the time. Grandma had these wonderful antique ornaments that had been her mother's and grandmother's. But the one thing she had that still makes me grin, was this really cute little picket fence that she would use to surround the tree, I don't know if it was to deter their Schnauzer from watering it or if it was always intended for decoration.
Always thought it was cool that she had tiny twinkle lights long before anyone else did. My Grandma and Grandpa rocked, yes they did! For years, they lived in what started out as a ramshackle little two room cabin that was on a lake in northern Ohio. When they finished it, it was 2 stories with 2 bathrooms and 2 bedrooms and a garage. Grandpa always did things to the "n-th" degree, and he was good at it.
That house was a good hour's drive from where we lived, and Christmas's up there are just chock full of memories. Me as the only grandchild for a long time, finally ended up sharing the spotlight with 2 girls and 6 boys. But it was always wonderful.
After some time, my grandparents moved back to Dayton and settled into the neatest house, and not to far from where my mom, dad, brother and I lived, so I was a frequent visitor and could always count on grandma to have oatmeal cookies in this big glass gallon jar that she kept under the sink. I always thought that was a weird place for a cookie jar, but now that I think about, it made perfect sense, especially for little people that liked to occasionally sneak a cookie or two. Maybe that was her plan all along. My Grandma was one smart cookie!
This house had the whole second story made into a huge cedar lined room and it always smelled wonderful. Grandma kept all of the Christmas presents up there, and as far back as I can remember, she would appoint me as the official present wrapper for the holidays. I can't tell you how many times I wrapped my own gifts and didn't even know it.
Those were such wonderful times. So many of these people are gone now and I miss them all so much. But, I still have all of these wonderful memories to cherish forever. Maybe, that is why this whole story took the change in course that it did.
My own wonderful parents are now the grandparents to my two kids, and my kids are the "onlys" and are just as spoiled as I was when I had that status for such a long time. My daughter grew up spending time with her Gram and Bob-o and there were cookies and pies being baked, and silliness with my dad. My son was never much for the cookie and baking stuff, but he would sit and watch cartoons with my dad and recreate these silly voices from the show and just crack up my dad.
We're getting ready to celebrate another family Christmas in just 10 days. There will be the gifts that we all struggle to figure out just what is right for each person, but more than anything, there will be new memories being made and blessings before us that unlike so many of my friends, I still have both of my parents and love them both so, so much. My children will be sitting as I am, in a few years and journaling their memories of the Christmases spent with Gram and Bob-o (the nickname my daughter created for him, never really figured out why).
Decorating Christmas trees, laying under the tree and looking up through the branches and squinting so the lights all looked like colored diamonds, pie dough cookies, special ornaments, my Daddy's Christmas village, Mother's crocheted tree skirt, the warmth of a house filled with wonderful smells and good food, piles of wrapping paper, taking turns to open gifts, laughter, love and memories.
This isn't my last entry before Christmas actually gets here, but this one is important, because for the past few days, all I have done is remember and smile, no matter where I am or what I'm doing.
I hope this gets you started on your way to your own memories. Write them down. Keep them for your children and grandchildren. Let them know where some of the wonderful traditions started,
To each of you, I send you warm wishes, loving, lasting memories of your own and endless blessings at Christmas and always.
God, thanks for changing my course. I understand why now. As always, In Him!
Kaye
