Tag: Christmas

A Gentle Christmas

This pre-Christmas season was different for me than many of its predecessors. We did many of the same activities, but they felt different to me. The activities felt less dramatic and frantic. It was not a bad thing. My life coach would be very happy to hear that the difference was that I was more inclined to immerse myself in each exquisite, sensual, joyful moment instead of seeing the whole totality of Christmas cheer as one, interwoven, overwhelming monolith of mood. In the past, each of these activities, conversations, experiences precariously balanced on the success or failure of the one before it.  Each holly jolly moment had to be “just so” to keep the Christmas monolith from crumbling onto my heart like an avalanche of disappointment. If I skipped something that has always been part of Christmas in my life, or if I did not imbue some gift with a manic level of sentimentality and sparkle, or if some Noel bell rang hollow for some reason- Christmas would be a failure and I would be left in the holiday wasteland for another year.

This year, I savored each Christmas theme park. I let each Christmas treat I ate sit on my taste buds. I threw myself into activities that brought me pleasure in the moment and skipped events that I typically do only because “I always do them.” I entertained people that I love, when it was convenient for me and for all of them. I bought and made presents that I believe brought joy to the recipients. If I did not find something that spoke to me for a certain person, I did not despair. I decorated my Christmas trees with ornaments that made me happy and did not worry that my “elegant tree” was no longer elegant.  In fact, the lack of elegance did not even register with me until I mentioned it to someone else.  I did the decorating over several days; thus avoiding the exhaustion and panic I often feel. I went to bed tired but had refreshing sleep nearly every night. I wrote Christmas cards strictly for the purpose of bringing pleasure and connection, not because I “had to” because other people would send them to me. In fact, I recognized that my Christmas card list was a trifle arduous and decided to do something different throughout 2024 to make my greetings more personal and effective.

The season seemed to go quickly, but it did not feel rushed. I was always looking forward to the next seasonal delight… but I was not looking forward to it until the current one was finished. I’m not sure what has changed for me, but whatever it was made the period between mid-November and Christmas extremely enriching and enjoyable. I was musing about this a week or so before Christmas. For the past five years or so, we have either gone to friends for Christmas dinner or had people come to our house. This year, our little family of friends is somewhat scattered. I originally thought to invite people over but decided against it. I had a bit of a health challenge (everything is great now, by the way!) which took up a lot of energy. As Christmas approached, though, I was starting to feel a little “meh” because I had no festive party planned. I wasn’t sure how it was going to feel when the day rolled around with nothing on my dance card.

I did end up inviting another couple to come for dinner on December 22. We festived ourselves silly. It really did feel like a Christmas gathering. However, I still wondered how I was going to feel about a “quiet Christmas.”

As it turned out, Max and I had a wonderful Christmas together. On Christmas Eve, I went to the Sunday morning church service. Max met me and another couple from our family of friends at a local restaurant for brunch. After enjoying some food, fun, and fellowship, we went our separate ways. Max and I opened Christmas presents later in the day, drove around looking at Christmas lights in our development, and watched our traditional Christmas Eve movie- Little Women. The next day, we attended Christmas morning church service during which our deacon delivered the sermon. In my family of origin, we opened gifts on Christmas Day after going to church. Each year, my mother, who has been deceased for seven Christmases buys us each a present. We opened our presents from my mother after Christmas morning service. I watched the Christmas Eve service from my church so I could hear the choir sing and my pastor preach. Later, we watched football and just hung out with each other. We ended the day watching another traditional movie for us- Therese: The Story of Saint Therese of Lisieux. 

When people ask how my Christmas was, I could say “nice, but quiet.”  However, that is not quite correct. I think it is more accurate to say, “nice, but gentle.”  I found a lot of joy this Christmas season. It was not noisy and loud, but it was audible and profound. I connected with many of my traditions in a way that did not feel forced. I let go of traditions that do not nurture me. I planted myself firmly in moments of wonder and excitement. I did not hop, jump, or dodge from one glob of fun to the next. I found myself steeping emotion and meaning into each moment instead of slapping a slipshod coat of sentimentality over timeslots as I rushed to make my next “appointment” with happiness. The monolith is not one, fungible tankard of Christmas cheer. When you take a step back, that monolith is a mosaic made up of dozens and dozens of individual, beautifully crafted moments and experiences. 

I slept in heavenly peace this Christmas season because I had a gentle Christmas.

How would you describe your Christmas? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com. 

Blessed Christmas!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Beyond The North Pole

Those of you who read my blog regularly (and if you don’t, why the heck not?!) know that Max plays Elf on the Shelf for me every year in December. Each morning, before I wake, he helps my elf find clever hiding places so I can play elf hide-and-seek. Up until this year, the grown-up version of the elf was very tiny- about as long as my thumb and half as wide. Kringle’s size made it possible for him to hide in a wide variety of bizarre places. Not a good option for the younger set. Most kids worth their salt would have become bored and frustrated looking for a microscopic elf. Children would have the good sense to wander off to pursue more rewarding activities. I was not so wise. I often needed multiple hints to locate him and there were some mornings I searched for a good half hour before calling “ally, ally, outs in free.” The elf would giggle maniacally when Max retrieved him from a place I either would never think to look or, embarrassingly, where I had already looked several times.

Max liked that Kringle the Elf was so small because it gave him the advantage in the game. I liked that he was small because it made him unique and interesting. On the other hand, Kringle’s size made him kind of delicate. And hiding places like a slat on a plantation shutter or in the fold of a blanket on the couch were definitely hazardous to his health. His little appendages were about as thick as toothpicks and more fragile. Over the years, bits of him kept breaking off until there was really only a torso, head, and bit of a cap left of him. It was pathetic, but I would not relent and replace him.

For one thing, my Kringle was part of a limited-edition promotion. You cannot just buy tiny elves. The elves in the stores were all much bigger than Kringle. If Kringle is the measuring stick, a regular elf on the shelf seems like a mutant. One year, Amazon gave away these mini-elves with a $100 purchase. Since spending $100 on Amazon was child’s play for my mother, she acquired several of these little guys and gave them away for Christmas of 2015. That is the other reason I was loathe to replace Kringle. My mother bought him and inspired the game of elf hide and seek that Gary plays with me each December. Kringle was part of my Christmas sentimental journey to visit my Momma.

This year, however, when Max and I were wandering around Hobby Lobby a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, we found a facsimile elf that was only slightly larger than Kringle. Max finally convinced me to let Kringle go home to the Great North Pole In The Sky and bring a new elf, Kristina, into our little family. I agreed reluctantly only on the condition that I myself had no part in disposing of our mutilated little Kringle. One day he just disappeared. I assume he is enjoying his retirement in a nice safe hiding place.

Kristina has been an excellent elf, although I still think of Kringle fondly. She is a little bigger so she is a little easier to find. However, she is easily as sneaky as Kringle. Some days, I have found her lickety-split. Other days, I have needed hints. Two days, I surrendered to her stealthfulness. She hid inside the battery compartment of my wooden Bavarian village. She hid in the paper bag that holds the Christmas card Max bought me. She hid under the edge of the Christmas tree skirt. I think my favorite place that she hid was inside the stable on my fake gingerbread nativity set. I guess she was trying to get there before the wise men.

I sometimes wonder if I am ever going to grow up. Then, I wonder if I want to.

What Christmas activities are making you jolly this year? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Love and joy come to you!

see the nativity set on the bottom shelf- fake gingerbread manger scene, complete with elf!
See her bringing that all important gift of peppermint to the Baby Jesus!

The Lights On The Christmas Tree

Many of you know that 2023 has been a pivotal year for me. It has been scary, challenging, and painful. On the other hand, it has been a year of great growth and liberation. I’ve learned so much. I’ve spent most of my life living in fear and emotional  pain, thinking it was imperfectly normal. This year, I’ve discovered how it feels when pain is not my de facto state of being. It feels more wonderful than I can say. I find myself often reflecting on my improved mental health with a sense of awe and bemusement.

I was talking to my life coach Todd about this transformation. In coaching me, one of his main areas of emphasis has been emotional resilience. He helps me learn to sit with difficult emotions, understanding that I will be able to withstand them and that they will pass. One of his axioms is that feelings are not forever.  There have been many opportunities for me to practice this skill in the past couple of years. As I have developed emotional resiliency, my major focus has been mostly relief when I don’t feel shattered and valueless. I have been gaining strength and confidence, especially over the past year. Recently, I have started to think beyond the moments of relief and contentment, wondering if this newfound peace can really be a new default way of being for me going forward.

I told Todd that I understood his perspective that feelings are not forever. I agreed that I have experienced the phenomenon of paddling my emotional resiliency boat into safe harbors over the past couple of years. However, I can also look in my rear-view mirror and see a time not so long ago when feelings WERE forever. I asked Todd how I could be confident that I was changed in some fundamental way that would prevent me from turning future painful feelings into forever conditions. He replied with a metaphor that resonated profoundly with me.

He explained that, for many years, I had no concept of self-determination. I had no understanding that I had any power to change conditions that made me depressed, scared, angry, or other otherwise emotionally hobbled.  No matter what happened in my life, no matter how anyone treated me, no matter what needs I had- I simply accepted whatever came my way, believing I had no right or ability to change it. Now, I know that I have agency in my own life. I can often take actions and have conversations that can change my circumstances. I can choose how I respond to events that I do not have the capacity to change. Todd said it was like having a stone in my shoe. Most of my life, I wandered around with a stone in my shoe without even knowing I had a stone in my shoe. I just knew something hurt. Since I did not know there was a stone stabbing into the sole of my foot, I never took my shoe off to shake it out. Therefore, the pain WAS forever. Now, I know that there is a stone in my shoe. I can take time out to extract it when necessary, so the pain will be temporary.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to muse a little more about this metaphor. I decorated the house for Christmas.  I pulled out the self-lighting tree I purchased last year. It is one of those fancy-dancy trees that have this “magic” central pole to make the tree light up all over without having to attach multiple strings of lights to each other. I love the lights on this tree. They are so colorful, with pure, clean shades of pink, blue, green, yellow, red, and blue. It makes me happy just to look at them.

I heaved the tree out of its box, struggling to stabilize the trunk in the holder and maneuver the upper section into place. I am just a little too short on one end and a lot too lacking in upper body strength to assemble the entire thing without breaking a sweat. The tree also attacked me with its thousands of sharp plastic needles, leaving bloody scratches on my forearms.  Finally, I had the entire structure standing straight and strong, overlooking my living room. The colorful universe of lights twinkled from top to bottom.

I lovingly unwrapped my ornaments- all of which hold sentimental meaning for me. There is not a single boxed, generic Christmas ball on my tree. I have one ornament that graced my maternal grandmother’s tree when she was a child. I have numerous Tinkerbell ornaments. I can tell you where Max and I were visiting when I purchased many of them. I have a reindeer wearing Alohawear swimming trunks from my first trip to Hawaii- he does jumping jacks when I pull a string. I have a hippopotamus ornament that I originally bought for my mother soon after we moved to Florida. We used to drive by this store that sold large bronze statuary. One day, Momma mused out loud why anyone would want a huge bronze hippo on their front lawn. Confused, I asked her what she meant. She pointed to one of the statues on display. I advised her that it was a cow, not a hippopotamus. That ornament always makes me laugh.

I found places on the tree for each ornament, reminiscing as I worked. Finally, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. I saw that it was good. The ornaments brought me joy and the lights sparkled. I felt like the completed Christmas tree was worth the considerable effort and lacerations. I went into another room to do some additional decorating.

When I returned to the living room, something looked wrong to me. It took me a second to realize it, but it soon hit me that the top half of the tree was no longer twinkling. It was no longer glowing. It was no longer colorful. It was no longer lit. It seemed that the magic pole had lost its magic, no longer transmitting power through both sections of the tree. I had limited options for troubleshooting because it is not that easy to manipulate a tree decked out with 64+ years of sentimental ornaments. I gingerly tried a few possibilities, but to no avail. The bottom had twinkling, colorful lights dancing around it, but the lights came to an abrupt halt mid-tree. It looked silly, so I decided it would be better to turn the lights off completely.

As the evening wore on, I kept looking at the tree in all its non-lit splendor. It made me sad to see it so lifeless and flat. Also, because there were no lights drawing my eye to the sparkle, all I saw was the clumsiness of my ornament placement. The blank spaces and the places on the tree where too many ornaments bunched together glared at me.  All the joy I felt in decorating the tree seemed artificial. I experienced a palpable feeling of pain, disappointment, and resignation. I prepared myself to tolerate the lightless tree for the next few weeks, trying to convince myself that it was okay.

It wasn’t okay, though. I was downright sad. I thought about buying a few strings of lights to give the tree a little oomph, but everyone knows that the lights go on the tree first. I wasn’t sure how it would work to try to string the lights around the already decorated tree. I sure as heck did not want to remove all the ornaments and start over again. It seemed like a waste of money to buy lights, since the tree came with plenty of lights… if they would just light. I kept trying to convince myself that it was not a big deal, but I could not let it go. It was a stone in my shoe.

By the next day, I had decided. I didn’t care if the lights were supposed to go on first. I didn’t care if I was spending $20-$30 that I should not have had to spend. I wanted lights on my Christmas tree, and it was within my power to have them. I took myself to Lowe’s, bought three hundred colored lights, and added a string of clear lights to put around the bottom of the tree, for good measure.  When I got home, I draped the lights around the tree, over the ornaments.  It was not perfect. In fact, it is pretty messy and bunchy in places. Removing the lights will probably be a nightmare. But you know what? When the lights are on, I don’t see the mess. I just see the lights. And they make me happy.

There was a time when I would have simply lived with the lightless tree, silently grieving while putting on a happy face. I would have simply tried to tolerate the disappointment because that was my state of being. I certainly would not have entertained the notion that I could do anything to change my set of circumstances… or that it was okay for me to even want to change it.

I guess an old elf can learn new tricks. 

What have you learned this holiday season? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me to terriretirement@gmail.com. 

Have a holly jolly day!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Spreading The Elf

Those of you who have been traveling through life with me over the past several years know that December is elf of the shelf month in my house. Every morning, Max hides my miniature elf, Kringle, somewhere in the great room at the front of my house. I search for him each day and, boy, does he get into some mischief. Kringle is very, very little,  He is about as long as my thumb and about half the width of my thumb. Unfortunately, because he is so small and his limbs tend to be a bit delicate, he has had a few amputations over the years. He has lost bits of appendages, which makes him even smaller. His size makes it extremely easy for him to hide in places where he is almost undetectable. Sometimes, I need a lot of hints. This year, though, I’ve been hot on the Kringle trail most mornings. Both Max and I look forward to playing our elf game. It makes me quite giddy. Yes, I am very, very weird.

But maybe I am not the only one who is very, very weird. Two of my friends are intrigued by my elf adventures. They asked me to text them pictures each morning to show what Kringle was up to. We have invented quite the elaborate mythology around the process.

One morning, Kringle was at the bottom of a Moscow mule cup and another morning, he hid in a double shot glass. We decided the all-night benders had to stop and recommended that it was time for an intervention. The next day, he obviously felt he needed wise counsel and hid in the pages of my devotional booklet. Another day, he was trying to read the Bible, but his hands were too tiny to open the book. We took him on our annual Disney holiday vacation, and, on the last day, he was obviously ready to go home because he was hiding in my open purse. Once, he was sitting in the corner, behind the sliding shutters in the dining room, facing the wall. We decided he must have been misbehaving in elf school. On another morning, he was hiding behind one of the legs of our kitchen table. I said it was a lucky thing it did not take me long to find him because it took me pretty much all day to get up again after wiggling myself down to find him. My elf-finding skills may be improving with age, but my elf-retrieval skills are not!

I am glad that my friends are enjoying Kringle’s adventures with me. Sometimes, in the weird world within my brain, it can feel kind of lonely. After all, I cannot expect upstanding, reasonable adults to understand my obsession with a three-inch piece of plastic. It is nice to know that other people do live in Weird World, too. Or maybe that is going a bit too far. Maybe no one else really lives in my Weird World, but I love it when they come to visit!

Have a holly, jolly, very merry Christmas! Here’s to Kringle and spreading the cheer… one elf at a time!

Kringle had a hard night and woke up at the bottom of a Moscow Mule mug! He needs an intervention!

What is your weirdest Christmas tradition?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com. 

Have a very merry, holly jolly Christmas, everybody!!!!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Merry Christmas, One And All!

I must admit that it is sometimes difficult to wish quite so many people quite so much merry.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Christmas and all that goes with it. It is just that it gets so “peoply” out there at this time of year. I can remember how time between Thanksgiving and Christmas used to drag when I was a kid. Now, the festive season of the year seems to go racing past at a dangerous speed as we all try to get our holly on at the same time. Not only is the road to Christmas a superhighway with no apparent speed limit, it is also a highly congested superhighway. As I navigate my fully packed calendar, trying to cram all the jolly possible into a few short weeks, I am regularly dismayed by the endless number of people I must dodge.

I am a bit spoiled because the “Christmas rush” of people was non-existent last year because of COVID. I was out and about and trying to enjoy some festivities in as safe a manner as possible, but most of the rest of the world was still buttoned up. This year, it is something of a free-for-all. I am vaccinated and boosted, as are most of the people I know. Mask mandates and social distancing requirements are becoming less suffocating. Clearly, most of the country feels safe enough to engage with the world again. They all seem to be engaging with it at the same time I am.

I am happy that life is starting to get back to normal. Or, should I say, I am happy the life is going through another one of the “safer” cycles. I have been lulled into thinking normalcy was right around the corner a couple of times over the past twenty months. I was getting ready to have a mask-burning party at one point. Luckily, I stayed my hand. Now, I am even considering buying more masks. The huge wardrobe of masks I purchased in the first nine months of the pandemic are starting to get threadbare. Also, my buying more masks could ensure that there is never a need for masks again. That is the way I roll. It is hard to know what to do when COVID trends are so incredibly fickle.

Despite the lack of certainty, many people have decided to just venture out into the world. And I keep tripping over them.

In my neighborhood, pre-COVID, there was always a significant uptick in traffic between October and May. I live in a community where snowbird migration is a real thing. I am not complaining about traffic because I come from Southern California. Even winter traffic here is for amateurs. Still, it was always noteworthy when the migration occurred each year. Once COVID happened, snow birding stopped. People stayed put wherever they were, north or south. Traffic in central Florida stayed stable. In fact, it decreased because so many people were staying home until they could be vaccinated. This week our winter influx of people has returned with a vengeance.

A week ago, Max and I went on our annual holiday mini-vacation at Disney World. On our last trip to Disney World before we moved to Florida, I grew sad when I realized that I might never stay overnight at Disney World again. Max reminded me that living only forty miles from the most magical place does not mean you are banned from reserving hotel rooms. Disney will happily take our money whether we live across the country or across the street. Starting in 2015, we have spent one or two nights in early December on property. I love being able to see the decorations, lights, and special shows without having to think about driving home in the dark after tramping around a theme park all day.

It was a strange trip in 2020. Although the parks had re-opened with COVID safety measures in place, many hotels and restaurants were still closed. Some of the experiences we love during Disney Christmas were not operational. As far as I am concerned, socially distanced lines should be a forever thing at Disney. Forcing people to keep six feet away from each other and OUT OF MY PERSONAL SPACE was a boon to my comfort level. No kids stepping on the backs of my ankles. No being belted by somebody’s backpack. No co-mingling of oxygen. On the other hand, the quiet was a little spooky. It felt almost furtive to scuttle around in relatively empty parks.     

As our trip approached in 2021, we were looking forward to a more “pre-COVID-like” experience. Our favorite resort reopened. Disney was again offering a version of their Candlelight Processional show, which is my favorite thing about a Disney Christmas. In looking through the various Disney food blogs, I saw gingerbread of every ilk on a variety of menus. While some experiences are still not back, the vast majority of our typical Disney holiday trip were again in the offing.

What I did not expect, however, was that the crowds were also back. Let me rephrase that. I did expect that the crowds would be back; I just did not expect that the entire free world would be spending the first week of December at Disney World. I have been to Disney many, many times. I have even been to Disney World the weekend before the 4th of July. Never have I experienced the crowds that we slugged our way through during this trip. Luckily for us, we have annual passes and make many trips a year, so we had no huge agenda for this trip other than seeing the holiday decorations and watching the Candlelight Processional. The crowds, while a bit oppressive to maneuver, were not really a barrier to doing what we wanted to do. It was just an odd experience to see SO MANY PEOPLE.

In retrospect, it makes sense. All the folks who typically take trips once a year or so have been incubating at home for the past two years. They have been bursting with energy, desire for distraction, and entertainment budget dollars. We probably had not only this year’s Disney Christmas crowd, but last year’s as well.

It is taking me a long time to write this piece. Typically, when that happens, it is because something isn’t setting right with me. In reading over what I’ve written so far, I realize I am sounding whiny and ungrateful. I do not mean to be. I am excited to see the world come back to life. Plowing through crowds at Disney is a first world problem of the highest order, both from a global geopolitical perspective and a COVID perspective.

 I can certainly handle an excess of people if it means that the world is safer and that the economy is healthier.

The thing is, I am not certain that the world is coming back to life. I fear getting duped again. Last spring, when COVID numbers were falling, I happily slipped into celebration as we started to engage with each other in real life again. Only a few weeks later, the COVID catastrophe grew new legs and shut us down even tighter than before. Now, as we unmask again, I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop. Indeed, the omicron variant is increasing the COVID case numbers again. I know we are cautiously optimistic that this variant, while very contagious, may not be as severe as the prior variants. It still seems pretty overwhelming. Just at a time when I should be feeling hopeful, I despair of ever feeling normal again.

My life coach explained something about anxiety to me. He said that anxiety is always future-focused. Anxiety is about wondering what I will do or how I will handle a situation if it happens. I don’t have to wonder about what I will do or how I will manage something that is in the present- I am already doing and handling, so there is no need to wonder. Maybe there is a lesson in this revelation that applies to my COVID despair this Christmas.

Maybe it is time to enjoy the merry right now and stop worrying about whether it will be snatched away tomorrow. Yes, be careful. Keep my vaccination boosted, as necessary. Mask up if the COVID statistics so suggest. Stop passing the peace at church if the need arises. But for now, stop thinking of COVID as either ongoing or over. Just enjoy the pause.

How are you feeling about the COVID progression?  What was COVID-19 is about ready to be COVID-22.  How do we keep living through this apparently never-ending pandemic?  Please share your perspective by leaving a comment.  In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Happy Holidays!

Terri/Dorry 😊

It’s Gift-Giving Time!

I am here today to provide a Public Service Announcement. I may be too late for Hannukah, but I want to take a little stress off your minds as you consider Christmas presents for your nearest and dearest.

Books are wonderful presents! You can order them from Amazon and have them delivered directly to your giftee. No extra trips to the post office. You do not even need wrapping paper. I understand that this might seem a little sterile and impersonal, but I have a way to make this “unwrapped, delivered by a third party” gift the most meaningful gift your giftee has ever received. When you see that the gift has been delivered… because God bless Amazon…, you can either contact the recipient and tell them to put the package under the tree or you can have them open it, depending on how tied up in tradition your jingle bells are. Then, either at that time (if the person is opening the gift then) or on Christmas (if the Amazon package is waiting patiently under someone’s tree), send a supplemental email or text that explains specifically why you chose that particular book for the giftee. This explanation could demonstrate a shared bond or memory with the recipient, something special you admire about the giftee, a sincere wish for them in the coming year, or some other information that shows the recipient just how special he or she is to you. This is how you infuse individuality into what may seem to be an uninspired gift. Some recipients may even print out your explanation and house it in the book. Or, if you are at all crafty, you could make a bookmark with the explanation on it, and either give it to the person when you see them or put it in a regular mail envelope.

Now, if you want some suggestions on what books to give…

I have two books that are available on Amazon. My first book, Changing My Mind: Reinventing Myself In Retirement, would be perfect for someone who is considering starting their own post-career adventure. It would even work well for someone who is not ready to retire but sees that day on the horizon or someone who isn’t thinking about retirement but is dealing with a lot of change in his or her life. I tend not to be proud of anything I do, but I’m really proud of this book. It is funny, poignant, and practical. I thought it was out of print, but I just tried ordering it on Amazon as an experiment. The copy I ordered will be in my mailbox next week. The other book, Random (A)Musings is full of funny stories and bizarre observations about life. I remember reading a cartoon one time that had the tagline, “Bravo for life’s little ironies.”  Random (A)Musings is all about life’s little (and big) ironies. I authored this book during the first disorienting weeks of the COVID-19 pandemic. It helped a lot to find things about which to laugh. It also helped to remember, that most of us have a lifetime of practice at successfully navigating random, odd misadventures. COVID is just one more.

You can buy either or both of these volumes through Amazon. You can buy as many copies for as many people as you like. I certainly won’t stop you.

Gladsome Gift-Giving. You’re welcome.

Do you think books are good gifts? Do you have any special ways you personalize them? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a giving day!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Christmask

The other day, I received a package from a dear friend of mine in California.  I opened it to find a Santa Claus Christmas ornaments.  Nothing unusual or noteworthy about that, you say.  The world is rife with Santa Claus ornaments.  What was unusual and noteworthy was the fact that Santa Claus was wearing a mask. 

We have been constantly figuring out new ways of living due to the pandemic for almost a year now.  As a society, I guess we are becoming adept enough at it to celebrate the festive season of the year despite danger of contagion.  After all, if Santa Claus is going to visit all the good little boys and girls all over the world, damn straight he better be wearing a mask.

It beats the Santa I saw in the mall the other day.  Instead of a mask, he was wearing a clear plastic face shield.  The thing was, it was fitted so close to his face that the curvature of the plastic and the reflection of the lights caused a lot of distortion.  It created an overall effect that was pretty disturbing.  I am certain that Santa terrified a lot of small children.  Sadly, children have become used to friendly faces partially concealed by masks.  I don’t think that any of us will ever get used to a Santa who looks like a malevolent alien. 

It isn’t just Santa.  I am going Christmas caroling tonight.  We will be singing through masks.  Rather than gathering cozily in doorways, we will be spreading out on front lawns like blow-up ornaments.  I am sure that many, many neighbors will be hearing us.  Even if they don’t want to. A friend was saying the other day that she always bakes Christmas cookies for her grandchildren, and this is the first year she has to mail them.  She is earnestly seeking packing solutions to ensure the cookies arrive as cookies and not as boxes of crumbs.  I guess, when you are in a pandemic, that is the way the cookie crumbles.  A cast member at Disney was telling me that she is shopping for her niece, who lives locally, but her sister insists that she mail the presents.  She must also send them at least a week early so her sister can quarantine them for a few days before putting them under the tree.  Even Kringle, my miniature elf on the shelf, has been more socially distant this year.  This morning, Max had to give me clues that narrowed down his position with the pinpoint accuracy of laser surgery before I could find him. 

People are more isolated this year.  Most folks will not be traveling or even seeing all the family and friends with whom they usually celebrate.  Some people who find comfort and joy in attending church services with others will be sitting at home in front of the television or computer, passing the virtual peace to their fellow congregants. 

I am tired of masks.  I am tired of distance.  I am tired of not hugging.  I am tired of having to rethink everything I do to try to safely retain some semblance of my humanity. The Christmas season sort of accentuates the issues.  On the other hand, it is also exciting and hopeful to see how far we have come.  Many of us are coming up with ways of continuing to live a normal life in a safe manner.  The COVID-19 numbers are not decreasing.  In fact, they are spiking significantly where I live. However, treatments seem to be improving and fewer people seem to be getting very sick.  We can see a suite of approved vaccines on the horizon, even though it may be several months before most of us can obtain one.   All of this is hopeful news, during a season when hope is a hallmark. So, we try to do our best to rejoice in what we have, look forward to a better future, and give thanks for all our blessings…. From a distance. 

It is also important to remember the true meaning of Christmas and that the future is not just tomorrow or next year.  For those of us who believe in God’s promises, we have an eternity of joy before us. I am pretty sure there will be no masks in heaven. The real hope in a Christmas season filled with masks and distances and touch prohibitions is that God is never socially distant.  The baby who was born in Bethlehem so many centuries ago reaches out to touch our hearts and souls every day.  It is okay to hug back!

christmas decoration on tree
Doesn’t the blue mask make his handsome eyes pop?

Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you are all doing well and enjoying the season, in whatever way brings you satisfaction, safety, and delight! What are you doing differently this year? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at www.terrilabonte.com.

Have a holly jolly day!

Terri/Dorry 🙂

Silent Wednesday

Today is Christmas Day.  All around the world, people are celebrating.  Some people are not celebrating.  All I really wish for this Christmas is that everyone who is lost or lonely or sad or angry or hungry or thirsty or cold or ill… or is suffering in any way… will experience some flicker of the Light that is the Christmas miracle.  I don’t know why some people are so broken and bruised and others seem to have an easier time, but I do know that no one is completely unscathed in life.  We all need something…. And we all have something to give. And sometimes what we need is to give. 

I’ve spent a lot of time this season talking about holiday traditions and my own somewhat kooky ho-ho-hoing.  Today, I’m going to let Christmas just be a Silent Night… and a silent morning and a silent afternoon and a silent evening.     It is more important that you pay attention to what is in your heart today than what is in mine. 

Blessed Christmas to all!  May you find peace, love, and joy in your sacred silence. 

My warmest wishes and prayers to all of you this Christmas Day!  May you be blessed with faith, hope, and love at Christmas and always.  Please feel free to leave a comment, sharing your Christmas wishes. 

Merry Christmas!

Terri/Dorry 😊

Christ-más Traditions

Most of us have heard the slogans “Jesus Is The Reason For The Season” and “put Christ In Christmas.” I first heard them as a child, so they have been around for quite some time. I thought they were snappy reminders that Christmas is more than Santa Claus and eight tiny reindeer.  After all, Clement Moore did not invent Christmas; God did.  And Christmas is just one chapter in the wonderful story of God’s love for us.

I don’t want to dismiss the merry moments that we enjoy as part of our ho-ho-holidays. Most of us cherish memories of family traditions and secularized celebrations of Christmases past.  We also cherish the beauty and mystery of the Nativity- the unimaginable wonder of the birth of a Savior who would bring an eternal Light to a World suffering in darkness.  We understand that the true meaning of Christmas fills the heart with way more warmth than the most sentimental Hallmark Christmas movie.  We understand that the true meaning of Christmas is a more miraculous gift than the most elaborately wrapped Christmas present.  We understand that the true meaning of Christmas is about more pure Joy than the shiniest Christmas tree can provide.  We know that Jesus is the reason for the season, and we put Christ in Christmas. 

I still don’t want to give up my secular Christmas traditions.  It is fun to decorate for Christmas. I get giddy about hunting for my elf on the shelf.  I disregard my regrettable lack of musical talent when I go Christmas caroling. I love dedicating some special festive time with friends and family, allowing overwhelming waves of affection and gratitude to wash over me.  I enjoy giving and receiving presents. I willed myself into believing in Santa Claus until I was eleven years old, so it is unlikely that I will kick him to the curb at this late date.   

I think we can center Christmas on Christ and still enjoy favorite secular traditions.  In fact, I think we can enjoy those secular traditions even more by making them Christ-más (more Christ) traditions.  With a few simple hacks, we can enrich some of our more familiar secular traditions with fortified Christmas spirit. 

For instance, it is easy to add the true meaning of Christmas to our holiday decorating.  There are all kinds of beautiful Nativity decorations.  Also, some families make a Jesse tree early in Advent.  A Jesse tree is named after the reference in Isaiah 11:10 which indicates that the Savior will spring from the root of Jesse.  The tree is usually leafless and scraggly looking, much like a tree in the desert battling against the harsh earthly elements and holding on to life only by a strong root.  It is decorated with ornaments that tell the story of salvation.  The ornaments may include symbols from the Old Testament, like Joseph’s coat and Noah’s ark, as well as ornaments depicting important events in the life of Jesus, such as the Star of Bethlehem, the dove, and the cross. 

If a family likes their elf-hunting or opening boxes on an Advent calendar to reveal candies or toys, it might be a good idea to incorporate other “readiness” activities during Advent. Some Advent calendars reveal Scripture quotes or part of the Nativity story each day rather than candy or toys.  In my case, I have an advent wreath.  Each night, I light the weekly number of candles and read a devotion.  The time leading up to Christmas is about building excitement and getting ready to welcome our Savior.  There is nothing wrong with hunting for elves on the shelves, but why not also spend some time exciting the soul, as well?

There are many Christmas carols that focus on the birth of Jesus.  I think we are sometimes a bit tentative about those songs, as if we might offend people who are not believers.  I guess it is good to be sensitive, but that doesn’t mean we should keep our love of Christ hidden.  I remember caroling one year when we visited a house where a Jewish man lived.  We were somewhat reluctant to sing Christmas songs because he didn’t celebrate Christmas.  We went ahead and I was so glad we did because he was so touched.  He even thanked us for generously sharing our joy and tradition with him.

Spending time with family and friends at Christmas is wonderful.  There are plenty of people who don’t get to share Christmas with loved ones.  We can celebrate Christ-más by enlarging our family circle to include an outsider.  Hospitality is a gift of the Holy Spirit and love is always meant to be given away.  Giving love away to people who are not in our immediate network of friends and family can make our Christmas more joyous and more Christlike. 

There is nothing wrong with presents, either.  I love shopping to find just the right gift for people and I enjoy the surprise of opening a package addressed to me.  I do think it is valuable to add one more gift under the tree, though.  You can wrap up a check to your church or organization that provides comfort to the suffering in the world and open it on Christmas Day to remind you that being able to give to others is a wonderful gift in itself. 

Then, there is Santa Claus.  I’ve always loved the rendition of Santa Claus kneeling, hat in hand, before the Baby Jesus.  It reminds me that Jesus, not Santa, is truly the Spirit of Christmas.  This year, I think Santa is going to bring Scripture cards to stuff in the stockings, in addition to the ubiquitous sugar plums. 

This year let’s take “Keep Christ in Christmas” to the next level.  Let’s infuse our secular holiday with Christ-más. 

Merry Nativity, everyone!

Precious Lord,

Thank you for all Your many blessings.  Help us to keep You at the center of our Christmas celebrations and the center of our lives.  The only gift we simply must have this Christmas is Your love in our lives.  Come into our lives and share Your light with us.  May we bear that Light to the world, to the glory of Your name.

In Jesus’ name, we pray.  Amen

Your turn… what Christmas traditions do you observe? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a joyful day!

Terri/Dorry

Second Christmas

I woke up this morning with a heart so heavy it felt like it was dangling lethargically somewhere in the vicinity of my left kidney.

Everyone says that the first year after losing a loved one is the hardest. I can certainly understand that. All through the tail end of 2017 and 2018, the “firsts” bombarded me. I experienced my first birthday without my mother. I experienced my first Christmas holiday season without my mother. I experienced my first Mother’s Day without my mother. I experienced August 22, which was my mother’s birthday, for the first time without her. I experienced the first anniversary of her death.

In addition, there were many challenging activities related to her death that I had to plow my way through in that first year. I told friends and relatives of her passing. I arranged for her cremation. I packed up her personal items from the nursing facility. I scattered her ashes. I applied for life insurance proceeds. I closed out her affairs.

Now that I am in the second year of orphanhood, I expected life to get a little easier to bear. For the most part, I think it has. It has been a year filled with a certain harshness that has been hard to overlook. On the other hand, it has been a year of great satisfaction in some ways. I’ll be writing more about that next week.

However, the Christmas season this year has been much harder on my psyche than I thought it would be. At first, the sadness surprised me, but I came to realize it makes perfect sense.

Last Christmas, I expected to miss my mother bitterly. I knew I would feel bereft and broken. In a world where most people love Christmas, my mother was a uniquely committed Yule-a-phile. She never met a Christmas decoration she didn’t like. She purchased truckloads of presents. She gathered her family to her heart like toys in Santa’s sleigh and draped us with holly. She let her wacky side run wild, embracing oddball traditions and creating serendipitous surprises.

People who know me would say that description sounds a lot like me. Trust me, the angel doesn’t fall far from the Christmas tree. I am only a faded carbon copy of my mother and her addiction to all things ho-ho-holiday.

Strangely, I floated through the holiday season last year without unbearable pain. There certainly were times when I was sad, but, for the most part, I managed well. I was easy on myself, anticipated moments of grief, and allowed my Christmas season to be gentler and more peaceful than usual. I cocooned myself in the warmth of that gentleness and enjoyed that kind of Christmas. It wasn’t that I tried to avoid celebrating Christmas because the whole holiday thing reminded me too much of my loss. I just settled into enjoying simplicity and doing whatever felt appealing in the moment.

Last year, my mother’s death was still so fresh. I felt shell shocked. I was processing my grief through a veil of relief that my mother wasn’t suffering anymore and that the job of accompanying her as she died little by little was finally done. I think my psyche was more wrapped up in the close of that painful chapter than in the close of the entire book of my mother’s life. I was so glad to turn the page that I didn’t fully experience the sinister finality of slamming of the book’s cover.

This year, the finality of the loss has had time to resurface in my brain. I am no longer as vague and relieved as I was last year. I just miss my mom being with me and doing the things we used to do. As a result, this holiday season has felt much sadder. And I think that is a good thing.

One of my biggest fears when my mother was ill was that all the difficult times and suffering were overlaying the lifetime of joyful memories I had with my mother. I felt like I was not only losing my mother in death, but that I was losing who she had always been in life because I could no longer fully experience the joyful memories. If you’d like to read more about that fear, you can visit my blog post I Miss My Momma. You can access that post by clicking this link:

I Miss My Momma

I think my sadness in this holiday season has to do with the joyful memories returning to take their rightful place in my mind and heart. You can’t miss what you don’t know, right? I think the fact that I am sad that my mother isn’t here to “do Christmas” with me means that I am remembering and cherishing the times we had when we were together. I’m okay with that. There is nothing that can change the fact that my mother died. There is nothing that can change the fact that most everyone will go through the death of one or more parents in their life. There is nothing that can change the fact that it is sad when we miss the people we love. Since there is nothing we can do to change any of that, I’d much rather be sad sometimes than forgo the joy of remembering and re-experiencing the happy times!

To all of you are experiencing loss this Christmas, may you be blessed with peace, hope, and joy.  That is what Christmas really means.  In a Christian perspective, it is about the beginning of our redemption by Jesus.  In a secular perspective, it is about allowing the warmth and love of this world to fill your heart and comfort you.  Please allow my warmth and love for you travel through cyberspace to fill your heart and comfort you.

 

Terri/Dorry 🙂