Standing On the Border of the New Year . . .

One foot in 2009, one nearly in 2010, ready to leap from the old to the new. Before looking ahead though, it's time to take a walk down memory lane, look at the past year, nod to the bad as well as the good, and move on to the clean slate awaiting me just 2 short hours from now.

It's been a year of extreme highs - we bought our brand new house! And extreme lows - my daughter moved away, and a dear friend moved on to heaven. And through it all were the ups and downs of daily living that we all go through along the way. There have been tears, there has been laughter, deep discussions, and lighthearted banter. It was a year of growth, and a time to figure out what my priorities are and which ones mean the most to focus on.

Now, with a smile and a wave behind me, I'm facing the new year with my shoulders back, my head held high, and with a determination to be appreciative for my wonderful husband and loving family, make healthy choices for my body, use wisdom in my daily life, show gratitude for the many friends have been blessed with and be thankful for my job. This is going to be a great year . . . because I said so!

Good-bye 2009 . . . Hello 2010!!!

We Have Been Blessed Just Knowing You . . .

I'm sitting here feeling tears stinging my eyes, a little numb. Last night the world lost a wonderful man, and a small group of buddies lost a dear friend. Our loss though, is heaven's gain, and I know the angels are rejoicing as they welcome D home, and knowing he is pain free and meeting Jesus face to face, makes the hurt just a little less, and puts a shaky smile on my face.

Never having had the pleasure of meeting D face to face, I nevertheless felt that I knew him as much as if I had actually met him. He put his beliefs out there without apology, leaving his thoughts and his views up for criticism from the negative and nasty ideology he was fighting against, and standing up for what he knew was right and good 24 hours a day, no matter what battles he was fighting in his personal life. D was a hero, and served this country he loved so much proudly and with a dedication that flowed as deeply as the blood that ran in his veins. He stood up for the rights of those who are unable to stand up for themselves - the unborn, the weak and the helpless. A patriot to the core, full of insight and wisdom, dedicated to the truth always.

I will never forget the first time I saw some of your online posts. I was too intimidated to post a response, but read your words out loud to my husband on Saturday mornings as we sipped our coffee and caught up on the news. We would laugh together as we read the vapid responses from the masses of uninformed nutballs, and eagerly await your verbal slapdown to each of them. One day I was brave and posted something, and you . . . along with the wonderful people who were regularly with you . . . welcomed me into your midst with open arms and hearts. Never will I forget the eagerness you awaited your beloved car to arrive, and the updates on her travels that you so lovingly gave to each of us. Your happiness when you were able to meet SP face to face, and your happiness at being able to cuddle her precious baby, was infectious and made everyone who knows you happy just to read about and made us all wish we could have seen it for ourselves! Heck, your patience with us all when we forgot to take you out of a loop of conversation that got rather personal on female subjects was enough to brand you as a saint on earth! I blush sometimes as I recall some of what you had to endure from us! Ah, now all of those will be sweet memories that we can all laugh about as the pain begins to diminish and our happiness at your healing and your homecoming grow.

You will be missed my friend, deeply and forever while we still walk this earth, but the knowledge that someday we will indeed meet face to face will sustain all of us who are feeling the void that you leave behind in our lives. My grief is not for you as you continue your journey with God, but for us who cannot feel the sunshine of your wisdom any longer. Your words, your friendship, your humor and your kindness will be remembered forever in our hearts. We have been blessed to have been counted as your friends.

Thank you . . . for being our friend . . .God Bless You Always.

Finding the Spirit of Christmas . . .

I have been having quite a struggle this year, finding anything even remotely resembling the Christmas spirit. We had fun on our annual Christmas tree hunt in the forest, laughing and tromping through the bushes and brush to find that perfect, wild Charlie Brown tree. If I do say so myself, I believe we outdid ourselves this year! It's beautiful, and reaches all the way to the ceiling, takes up a good portion of the living room and I love looking at it. But even with all the fun and the lights, the spirit just hasn't been there like it should be. We decorated the house with our Santa and Nutcracker collections, set out my Christmas teapots and cookie jars, hung wreaths both outside and in . . . just doesn't feel right. We have shopped and baked, made plans and gone to parties - fun and sweet, but in a bitter sort of way. We're down to the countdown of hours and minutes now, yet it just hasn't seemed like it should be Christmas already. The year went by so fast, we had so much go on, and it hasn't felt right.

I have been putting off thinking about the fact that it's my daughter's first Christmas away from home. Because she's missing, there's a piece of Christmas missing from my heart this year. The feeling is familiar to me, since it's the same hollow feeling that I had when my son was on deployment out of the country two Christmas's ago. No matter how hard I try, everywhere I look there is a reminder that a seat is empty where it should be filled, there are traditions being altered because she isn't here to enjoy them too, and there are treats I won't be baking simply because they are her favorites and truth be told nobody else would eat them without her. We talk every day, and she's feeling the same way I am, which doesn't make me feel better - no, it just makes it worse. She got her gifts from us today, UPS delivered them as promised, and true to form, she's begging to open at least one early - the pajamas she knows are there because she's gotten a pair of pajamas every Christmas in her memory, and she always opened them before she even emptied her stocking. She'd rip the paper off, squeal with glee and disappear into the other room to change into them so she was all snuggy and warm while she opened her gifts. She's munched on the cookies we baked for her, and has been shaking the gifts that are sitting under their tree. It's the best I could do from far away and I would do it again, but it's just not the same.

This afternoon though, something shifted a bit. I'm home from work today, as I always am on Wednesdays, and I've spent the day puttering around the house. The scent of ginger molasses cookies is in the air, fudge is piled on a decorated plate, coconut macaroons and peppermint biscotti are waiting for their coat of melted chocolate, and the meat sauce for tomorrow's Christmas Eve lasagne is simmering on the stove, the aroma of garlic drifing in and out of the other delicious smells that define preparation for this day for me. I found myself humming, and smiling to myself as I turned on the lights for the tree and half listen to Miracle on 34th Street in the background. Whether I was ready for it or not, Christmas is here, and it's not about things staying the same, or resisting change, or feeling sorry for myself . . .

I am feeling the spirit of Christmas as I ask God for peace in my heart about my daughter, and for the day to pass by with my family safe, sound and healthy, no matter where they may be spending Christmas morning, and no matter who they are spending it with. Our Lord was born on this day and it's His birthday we celebrate, not the modern traditions we impose on our schedules. My heart feels lighter, it feels happier, and I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas.

Silent Night . . . Holy Night . . .

For the past couple of weeks I have had an image in my head and heart that has stuck with me so strongly that I can close my eyes and see it. The temperature had been down in the teens and twenties for over a week, so crawling out from under the covers at 3 a.m. wasn't exactly something that filled my heart with glee, but when a nearly 100 lb dog wakes you up to say she needs to go out it doesn't matter if you're warm and cozy or not, you get up and you take her! The mess for ignoring her just isn't worth it. Anyway, grumbling to myself I pulled my bathrobe around me, slid my feet into slippers, and with Tibbi dancing and whining her way down the hall, I shuffled my way after her, grumbling out the ground rules about hurrying as I went. As I made my way down the hall I saw a glow of light from the living room and started to wonder if I'd left the outside light on when I went to bed earlier.

I pulled open the deck door, and the last shadows of sleep left my eyes and my head, for the glorious sight that was waiting for me chased it away. The full moon was shining overhead, so bright in the sky that the entire yard, usually masked in shadows and darkness, was daylight clear, the stars scattered across the velvet sky twinkling and dancing in the air that shimmered with expectation. The brilliant light glinted off of the frozen crystals of ice that turned the earth to a diamond crusted treasure, and in its numbing beauty took my breath away, even as it hung frozen in the air in front of me. Accompanying this heavenly work of art was a silence so profound, so total, that it was as if the earth was itself holding its breath out of reverence for perfection of the moment. I forgot to be cold, I forgot to breathe, I just wanted to stand there with my arms wrapped around myself absorbing the moment, for on the edge of my thoughts an insight was forming.

The memories of Silent Night hummed through my head and I realized that the author could very well have been singing of just such a sight and silence as this - the very reverence in the hush describing what could very well have been the emotional tidal wave that the shepherds must have felt on that holy night so long ago as the angels sang to them of the arrival of the King of Kings. My heart overflowed for what felt like a very long time, but what must have been only moments. Tibbi finished her business and hurried back up onto the deck, and with one last glance at the astonishing and soul feeding display provided by God to bless my heart and remind me of what was most important not just during Christmas, but all year long, I returned to bed, falling asleep with the sound of carols singing in my heart, secure in the knowledge that God was watching out for my family wherever they may have been in that moment, and that He, the painter of such beauty, was in control and loving each of us as we prepare to celebrate the birth of our Lord.