Santa, Would You Consider This Idea?

Dear Santa,

I haven’t moved from my bed in three days and I don’t feel bad about it either. Sure, I go upstairs and downstairs but I haven’t even exposed my bare shivering cold body to the shower, I have to plan for that. My goal is to shower tonight but more likely it will be tomorrow sometime in the morning after a good night’s sleep.

It is this horrific change in temperature and while I could blame it all on Fibromyalgia and many of my physical disabilities I am not going to do that. For me, it sounds like I’m staging a revolution of sorts, a sit in from the sixties (“I told you, year after year, how much I HATE the cold weather” ) which is entirely childish but so definitely true.

I don’t want to leave my house (okay bed and blankets) to go outside where the wind blows right through me and I can’t find a glove/mitten made warm enough to keep my fingers toasty. Does such a thing really exist? I’m doubtful. If so, can you please send me a pair or two?

Honestly, how anyone except teenagers would want those texting gloves is totally beyond me. I just don’t get this texting craziness and I never will. I do know I stink at technology which my children make fun of me endlessly. The trouble is I don’t care about it, not the phone or the computer, they have no real value to me. They are “things,” just like my car. They serve a purpose but I wouldn’t go crazy if there was a scratch or two on it. Please. My kids were practically born with these gadgets, I was not and I have no interest in them.

I want a phone to reach a loved one or AAA if my car breaks down, a computer to write my blogs and a camera for photos on my phone. That’s about it. I don’t use 99 percent of the phone’s functions to begin with and maybe, maybe, I know half of one percent of what the stupid phone can do, if that.

I am waiting for the first frost and snowfall, I know it is coming any day now. The bad weather, ice storms, sleet, leave me home bound (not that I am complaining) but I’m terrified of falling on the ice and breaking bones. Been there, done that, many times. Look, some people are penguins and love sashaying and skiing through the snow and others, like me, prefer warmer climates. There is nothing wrong with that, except when you are a sun worshiper, living close to the North Pole. I truly love you Santa

but I don’t exactly want to be your neighbor. Have your ever considered two locations?

Is there an island for people who prefer warmer climates? Send me there, to the South Pole Annex. Why must everything take place in the North Pole?  I will take care of all the boys and girls, elves, helpers, reindeer who fail the Winter test  and I will love them, take care of them and appreciate them. You can count on me, Santa, you know I love animals, misfits and all.  Please consider this as my Christmas wish. To be somewhere warmer, yet close to you, as always, in my heart.

Thanks.
Love,
Santa 2 To Be?
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Mellow Yellow Monday – Twinkies

In honor of a product which is dying a rapid death, ladies and gentlemen, I show you the most beautiful yellow item of all,

THE HOSTESS TWINKIE.

Twinkies were an icon for generations, for baby boomers and more and now they are leaving us. Shame on you Hostess and Drake. I know they weren’t the healthiest of items, but still, seeing them on the shelf was reassuring. It’s a sad moment for many of us.

PS. I’m not at all happy about those orange cupcakes or the snowballs going away either! It was a

Christmas tradition. One you have destroyed. I hope you are happy.

Twinkies (Hostess Twinkies is a trademark of I...

Twinkies (Hostess Twinkies is a trademark of Interstate Bakeries Corporation). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Carry On Tuesday: “I Had A Dream”

Publicity photo of Ralph Waite (John Walton, S...

Publicity photo of Ralph Waite (John Walton, Sr.), Richard Thomas (John Boy), and Michael Learned (Olivia Walton) from the television program The Waltons. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had a dream, when I was younger, that all families were like the ones I  watched on television: Leave It To Beaver, Father Knows Best and most importantly, The Waltons. Everyone always got along, the siblings were close, sure they bantered back and forth but I could just feel the love between them and the mutual admiration they had for one another. I grew up thinking that life was fair; good people got good things and bad people got what they deserved: punishment. Life was about giving and taking, things always worked out in the end, or so I thought.

I certainly don’t believe in that as much as I used to, hell, I’m not sure I believe in it at all.  There are too many bad people getting away with too much horrible crap and too many good people are given way too much stuff to handle that they don’t deserve. Think about it for a minute, I bet you can think of a few, truly good and kind people who don’t deserve what they have and a few unkind, bad and selfish people you wish had more of the same, negative karma that they give out,  if only to teach them a lesson or two. Does it happen often? No, it rarely happens if at all.

I know I started  my youthful fantasies, back when there was a Santa Claus, and an Easter Bunny and if you had a bad day, the next day was a promise with a kiss to be better. It was a world when moms and dads could tell you things and you believed them in your child-like innocence. Parents weren’t flawed people, they were just, well…parents. Apparently, life is not based out of old episodes of a television series. Reality hit me when I was an adolescent and those innocent years of childhood ended abruptly.

Families, like The Waltons all lived together in one big house; sure they were poor but they all got along and loved and trusted one another, three generations living under one roof. We can’t even have a dinner with the “adults” in my family before someone’s childish drama and selfishness rears its dysfunctional head, loudly and inappropriately, within a matter of minutes. At my mother’s  birthday celebration, one member of my family made it all about her. I wasn’t shocked or surprised it happens that way all the time. I just shook my head, looked at my poor husband who had just been delivered a stern lecture and saw his flushed cheeks and his bewildered, hurt brown eyes; he was very upset. After that, just looking at his body language he had checked out. There’s always one victim, usually it’s me, now it was both of us, but I don’t feel defeated anymore, I just felt disgusted.

Here is what I have learned:  people do not change. The most “enlightened” sounding people can be the most disturbed and do not know themselves at all; they need professional help. As much as we are all in this together with our friends, family, neighbors,  ultimately, we are alone. We are born alone and we will die alone. The most important thing to have is strength in yourself. We all need that wisdom and courage it takes to go to bed and wake up the next day knowing that even though it is hard to put one foot in front of the other, we have no choice but to continue. That even in uncharted territory we must force ourselves to go on and that family is not necessarily defined by blood lines but by goodwill, caring, kind, well-intentioned, love. Pure and simple. Love should not be that complicated, and if it always is, there is something very, very wrong.

Christmas Angels

English: Christmas angel in modern glass desig...

Dear Santa,

We have no money in our family to give each other presents this year but I am not complaining about that at all. We are back home and that is the biggest gift we could have been given. We are giving each child something small for Christmas but it’s not like years past when there were a pile of gifts to buy and arrange on top of a big table. The children are much older but we all LOVE presents. My husband and I are not exchanging presents this year. The whole rebuilding of our house took extra money we had and while we did get a home equity loan, we are trying to pare down any added expenses.

Yesterday afternoon there was a huge box on our substitute kitchen table, four television tables pressed together. I looked at it curiously and assumed it was insurance papers or even worse, tax forms.

I was amazed that my name was on it; I couldn’t imagine what it might be or from whom. I gasped when I looked at the return name and address. It was from a friend who I deemed “my little sis” on Facebook. What was she doing? I knew her own struggles with money and expenses, why would she send ME something? Inside the treasured box were all sorts of lovely things, each bought, you could tell, with love and friendship. Each gift had a special meaning to both of us.

I didn’t even have enough money to do the Santa Swap that our chronic pain group (Graceful Agony) participated in, nor the wherewithal to make something simple for friends; we are still unpacking from the hotel room we had to stay in for three and a half months while our house was being rebuilt. Opening my surprise gift was the high point of my day.

My Facebook friend took the time to go shopping when she was in pain and cared about me enough to send me a package when I know she is hurting both physically and financially as well. She’s more than a friend, she’s my Christmas Angel.

I even had the gift of hearing her voice when I immediately called to say “Thank you.” We struggle alone and together with our chronic pain, having someone who knows how it feels is a blessing in itself. I want my friend to get better, she has more serious problems that I have, her pain is more severe and more consistent.

My Christmas wish is that she finds a wonderful caring surgeon that will help her and fix the mistakes that another doctor in the past, made. Please give her the hope and the chance leading a normal life with less pain. She doesn’t ask for much and she gives so much to others. Santa, I know you have delivered most of your gifts already but please swing by her house or send a messenger anytime in the New Year and let her know she has not been forgotten by you. That, is my Christmas prayer.

DEDICATED TO TAMMY S.

The Best and Worst Parts of the Holiday Season

English: A cinnamon roll with glaze

This is a hard post to write if anyone, like me, has lost a loved one. My dad died eleven years ago on New Year’s Eve. The day before my parents’ wedding anniversary on January 1st. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my dad in some way or another. He loved the holidays, he was our Christmas Santa, starting the celebration off with his special Christmas bell. He got so excited at the thought of getting and giving presents. Every Christmas, he would buy me a candle. It was a tradition.

When he was well and healthy and happy he could eat a huge amount without ever getting full and food was very important in his life (now you know where I get it from). My dad was playful and child-like, just the way I am and our two personalities were so very similar. I lost a part of myself when he died, the dynamics of our family are so different now; it took me years to adjust to it.

I still loved the holidays when my children were young and we could focus on them and see their sheer joy and excitement. But now, with children who are 17 and 19, there really isn’t that much fun left in it for me. We do get together every year on Christmas, we have the same fun, traditional meal of scrambled eggs and bacon, and Pillsbury cinnamon rolls with icing for dessert, but of course, I miss my Dad and my mom dearly misses her husband.

The memories are nice to have and I try to appreciate them, but during this time of year it’s hard to focus on that. I still love getting together at my mother’s house with my sister and her family. To see the four cousins together is magical at any age, now ages 21,  19 and a half, 19 and 17. With very little money this year, I’m afraid we had to be Scrooge and severely limit presents. What remains however, is still the love in our hearts and the piping hot aroma of the cinnamon buns’ sweet vanilla icing, but Santa’s Christmas bell has been silenced forever.

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My Gift Wish List

Santa Claus with a little girl

Image via Wikipedia

HO, HO, HO?

Dear Santa,

I’ve been asking for this special gift, this present, for over a year now. Since it’s almost Christmas (and Hanukkah) please, could you read my letter again? I was silly to think that you would grant my wish before the holidays but ’tis the season now…fa la la la la, la la la la. I am not asking for a present for just me, I am asking for one present for the whole family. I am asking for a job for my husband that pays real money. Our family would really appreciate it. Please Santa, its been a long time. I’ve been a very good girl and will, once again, leave out cookies and milk for you and carrots for Rudolph and the rest of the reindeer. Thanks a lot! Hugs and kisses and love, from ME

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