The Spirit of Christmas

Being of the Christmas Spirit has become increasingly difficult for me- though I have always known how to smile on cue.  Such things in my house were taught early on.  Rest your fork before lifting your glass to drink.  The unoccupied hand is to be in your lap at all times.  Dab- never wipe your mouth.  Smile with your eyes.  Match the strength and energy of the one whose hand you shake.  Please.  Thank you.  That was lovely.  Always offer to help with clean-up.  Never leave first.  Never leave last.  Same goes for arrivals.

Today, the festivities are past, and I can be myself.  Not that I am not actually polite or proper, or prim (and yes, I view prim as an attribute.  I'm old-fashioned that way) but today I can be sad.    Today I can stay in my robe and light the Christmas tree, then turn the lights off twenty times, if I desire.  Just to see which suits my mood better.  Today, I can mourn the loss of my Mom- the Spirit of Christmas incarnate.  I can miss her fudge and her cookies, her hoarse laughter from the kitchen and her bird-like limbs which could never quite carry all the presents and joy she filled them with.  Today I can sadly remember the proud, quiet smile of my Dad on Christmas morning as we opened our gifts, shaking with glee.  A smile I saw a glimmer of the day I married Husby- but haven't truly witnessed since Mom died.  It was not there, yesterday- though I looked for it often.  Today I can cry because I will never have a Christmas with both of my parents- with either of my parents, ever again.  And maybe I didn't treasure yesterday enough.  And maybe I didn't know how.  Today the sky is grey and it is appropriate.  I simply couldn't bear the sun.  Not today, when I can be myself.

Today I can be morose, and playful and weep and giggle and be unapologetic.  Chloe knows how to live in the moment and she doesn't mind such mood swings.  She will lick the tears off of the tip of my nose when it is a crying moment, and she will lick my cheek when it is a laughing one, with the same devotion.  And occasionally, she will sneak my used tissues.  

Tomorrow, or even later today, will be a blog of all the joys and food and lovely gifts and memories that graced this holiday season.  But not now, now is not the time.