Dec. 20, 2024 — Time continues to fly on its merry way. It seems like only yesterday we gave birth to 2024, watched it take its first steps, learn to tie its shoes, head off to school, fall in and out of love, and drive off to grab life by the scruff of its neck. And soon we’ll put it to rest, watch it lean back in its old leather recliner, to sigh relief and fall forever asleep. Perhaps to dream.
But for now, there’s a Christmas compromise to be made. Our family has grown, gotten older. There’s no longer a need to be sticklers to tradition, insisting everyone celebrate on the day in the family home. It’s time to bend and let our adult children celebrate the morning in their own homes, start their own traditions. Maybe we’ll have Christmas with them in the afternoon, or maybe the Saturday before. The Saturday after?
Dec. 21, 2024 — We opted to have our family Christmas the Saturday before, which is today. Are all the presents wrapped? Do we have enough food? When will they be here? No need to count calories today. Or tomorrow, for that matter. Hey, somebody’s coming down the driveway! It’s them.
Dec. 22, 2024 — Rest. That’s what we need now. Rest and recuperation. Reload the dishwasher. Recycle bags, boxes, wrapping paper. Read a book. Remember for next year what went right. Write it down. Relax.
Most Asked Questions: “Is there any eggnog left?” It was gulped down like water found in the desert. “How about gingerbread cookies?” Gone, to the last man. “Leftover ham?” A smidgen for a sandwich or two. “Fruit cake?” Enough left over to last for years to come.
Dec. 23, 2024 — Monday morning at the grocery store. Why is this place so crowded? Oh, wait a minute. The other shoppers are still rushing around trying to buy everything they need for their Christmas. Just like I did a few days before. Maybe I’ll just stay out of their way. Park myself by the onions. Nobody loses their cool over onions.
Dec. 24, 2024 — Christmas Eve. I’m steering clear of every store in the vicinity. I hope we have enough cat food to last until the weekend.
Dec. 25, 2024 — Christmas Day. Here. Alone in our house. Us and the pets. Maybe we should have saved at least one gift to open on the day. I’ll try to remember that next time around.
Dec. 26-29, 2024 —Five days to squeeze out every bit of goodness that 2024 has left in it before the New Year resolutions begin. Get comfy on the couch (need to exercise more); bake another New York cheesecake (need to go on a diet); be as grumpy as possible (try to smile more); make a thousand posts on social media about cats and fruitcake haters (delete all social media apps).
Dec. 31, 2024 — This is it. The last day of the year. Twenty-four hours to cram for the final exam. Might have to pull an all-nighter. Honestly, I doubt midnight will find us awake.
Jan. 1, 2025 — And just like that, it’s gone. Kaput. The old year replaced by a new year. Now we get to sit back and watch as it takes its first steps, learns to tie its shoes, heads off to school, falls in and out of love, and drives off to grab life by the scruff of its neck. Hopefully this new year will learn to savor the life that it has, living all 365 days as if each one is the last — right up until the day it is.
 |
| The dawning of a new year. |
