Dust Motes

photo from psychologytoday.com

Wow. A lot has changed around here since I wrote last. I need to investigate all the changes Blogger has made.

Another year has gone by. I am a year older, and maybe not so much wiser. I lost my job, but then got hired with a new company that does the same kind of work I was doing. I now work harder than I ever have worked in my life. LOL

DD will be in sixth grade this year. How can she be in sixth grade already? My own sixth grade days seem not that long ago.

The best part about time is that it heals all wounds, but lately I have found that I've been missing my grandmas, both of them. I don't know why they've been on my mind so much. I guess I just see DD with her grandmothers, and remember my own happy summer days.

DD and I went swimming at the local pool a weekend ago. It was so fun. She is old enough now to doggie paddle, so she was fearlessly jumping off the diving board. I was shocked that she wanted to try, but she saw other kids doing it--little bitty kids with lifejackets--and she must have decided that she could be brave and do it too.

How she has grown...

I feel like I've regressed in some ways. I haven't written for ages. I get so tired during the day, and when I come home, I just want to brain-rot with Facebook or the tv. Ugh. Same old story. Maybe my heart wasn't in it anymore, either. I have felt creative stirrings recently, and decided to dust the corners of this old haven and see where the path leads me.

The door is open...

all I have to do is step across the threshold.

The most wonderful time of the year

It's the most wonderful time of the year.....

The time leading up to Christmas Day is chock full of anticipation. I remember when I was a kid how every day in December seemed to crawl by because I was so excited for Santa to come. I could not wait for school to get out for Christmas vacation! Back then, it seemed like we had two and a half weeks off to lounge around and play in the snow. I'm sure my sisters and I drove my parents nuts.

Later in my teen years, I became cynical about the holidays. I didn't like having to put on my game face. I guess I wasn't understanding what the holiday truly meant. I thought it was all about being with family members I didn't want to be around, saying thank you for gifts that weren't something I remotely liked. (Teens are so difficult to buy for!)

It's different now that I have my own daughter, and I can see the holiday for the real meaning: it's not gifts and food and relatives. It's about hope—hope for the future to be better than it is right now. I must have heard "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" three times already, and it's only December 1st. Every time I hear it, I tear up. It reminds me of my grandmother, and the Christmases spent with her, but it also makes me feel hopeful. Someday we all WILL be together.

I will always believe there is a Santa Claus. Without magic and wonder, there can be no hope. I don't think I want to live in a world without Santa. :)

D03 -- A Favorite Holiday Memory

Once upon a time there was a little girl, about ten or twelve years old. She was so excited that Christmas Eve night that she had a hard time falling asleep. Santa wouldn't come down the chimney until the little girl was asleep. (Yes, I believed in Santa for years and years and years and am STILL disappointed that Santa is part of the Spirit of Christmas.) But anyway, she somehow managed to fall asleep.

Deep in the night, a cold winter's night, the little girl woke up and needed to go to the bathroom. But had Santa been there yet? She got up, and excitedly went to her sister's room. She whispered to her sister to wake up and they both tiptoed through the quiet house. The little girl went to the bathroom while the sister went to the living room, to see if Santa had been there yet. Before the girl could even finish in the bathroom, her sister rushed into the room with a cute red and blue Papa Smurf doll.

"Look! Look what you got!" the sister said.

"Wow. Cool! What else did we get?" the little girl said. She finished using the bathroom and they walked into the living room. A large blue footlocker stood under the tree, along with several other gifts. Santa had been there!!! They excitedly looked through all the presents under the tree, trying to be as quiet as they could.

"What are you kids doing up?" their mother said from the doorway of the living room.

"Uh, nothing. Going to the bathroom..." the little girl tried to say.

"Leave that stuff alone! Get back to bed!" hissed their mother.

The girls returned to their respective bedrooms, and the little girl climbed into bed, finally able to fall asleep quickly, anxious for morning to come.

The following year, Santa started wrapping all the Christmas gifts.