They’re Here . . .
Do you remember that line from Poltergeist when the little girl in the family announced the arrival of some really bad spirits who had come to haunt? Well, that line today in the context I plan to use it is even scarier than that! THEY are indeed here, the last days, nay, the last few hours before Christmas arrives.
Well, how about another quote? --- “Time and tide wait for no man”? I looked it up and no certain origin of this quote can be found. But that does not mitigate the meaning -- time marches on and Christmas will be here Wednesday. Did it seem to come exceptionally fast to you this year? Yes, Thanksgiving fell a bit later this year, a matter of a few days, but oh, those precious days.
And that, dear readers, is the point of this post. Those days, those precious moments were so important, the lack of a few more days to prepare for Christmas has hit us a bit hard this year. We feel we are scurrying even harder than last year, searching for that final present or that last ingredient for the Christmas repast, those few extra golden moments that we need and could truly use.
But, I have some advice. (That will come as no shock to those of you who know me well. I always have advice, some often good, sometimes my advice is off center.)
But, I think I can say with confidence that this advice is good. It goes like this:
“Check those lists. Prioritize.” Get the last urgent things you need and then head home--wherever home is. If it’s another state or country, hop that train or plane. If it’s a few miles away, just ease on down the road, but get there.
Home is where you will find your loved ones, your pet or pets, your shelter, your center. So go there and begin those final preparations before Christmas rolls over you like a huge snowball.
And may I go a bit further with my advice, I mean while I’m on a roll and all?
Then, let me give you a few hints of how to use those last golden moments:
1. Wrap the last presents, and play some Christmas carols or whatever holiday music is good for you. And while you wrap, sing—really loud! I do and I feel much better. It scares the cat, but she will get used to it.
2. Make that last dish, that family traditional concoction that you must always have on this holiday. Just do it, even if it is opening that can of cranberry sauce, shaking it out of its container to preserve those wavy lines to slice it up for your meal. You know, I heard of a survey once and most of the people in America wanted their cranberry sauce just that way, just the way mom used to fix it when she was in a hurry—sliced from that one big blob, complete with those wavy lines. Funny, isn’t it, how some wavy lines can take us back to good food and good times?
3. Watch the Christmas movies. Being a film buff I watch them all. I watch the happy ones, the touching ones, the hysterically funny ones. And while I do, I keep a box of tissues close at hand. Because at this time of the year your feelings seem closer to the surface, and I find it is better to be prepared when the mist or tears come, and come they will as we hark back in our memories.
4. Make a cup of Christmas tea, or coffee or wassail—but make it hot. It keeps the illusion that it is truly December, a time for snow and mittens and cold waves. That’s true even if you live in the Southern state of Georgia, where it gets cold, but definitely not like some of our Northern neighbors. Folks north of us actually do have snow, and even buy heavy equipment to clear the roads. But here in Georgia we have our weapons, too. We just head to the store, buy milk and bread, and head home to hibernate.
5. Do a good deed. Yep, it’s a real panacea for what ails you. Blow the leaves away from a senior’s door, give to your favorite charity, or share some cookies with a neighbor. It won’t save the whole wide world, but it’s a start, that one step in a journey of a thousand miles.
6. And my final bit of advice? Sit down and enjoy and be thankful. Thank God that you live in a free nation—not a perfect one, but as close as this old world is going to get. Give thanks for your very life, for your family and friends and that food on the table and roof above.
And what, you may ask, makes me so perfect as to give such advice? Nothing, really--nothing except the fact that I have done it wrong many times, and have come to realize that life is made of moments. So, grab those precious moments and squeeze them for all they are worth. It’s the only thing worth living for—happy moments, happy memories with loved ones.
