My Holiday Meltdown

It happened. I was reduced to tears today, after getting the mail.

No, the waiting bills didn't get to me, it was the rest of the news.

The box contained a stack of Christmas cards and their red and green envelopes winked at me all the way to the house. Tucked amongst the stack was a holiday letter from my friend, Faith.

It was exciting to see pictures of her very first grandchild, born November 2. It is hard to imagine Faith as a grandmother (we're way too young for that kind of thing) but I know she'll be a great one.

At the bottom of the page was word of Faith's recent trip to Hawaii with her husband, courtesy of her job and in recognition of a certification she received. She mentioned that they had a nice visit with some mutual friends. And that did it.

The mutual friends Faith referred to used to be among my dearest, until they decided I was no longer among their inner circle. There was a half-hearted attempt to explain why, but to this day, I am not really clear, and I guess it doesn't matter. The bottom line is that they made a choice to release me from their love and caring almost five years ago.

Thought I had dealt with it long ago, but today's meltdown reminded me that our feelings are fragile, no matter what we say about time and distance. The fact is, it still hurts. And the fact is that good 'ole Ann is expected to accept, understand and forgive it.

I think that in many ways, this kind of loss is as tough as the death of a loved one. This kind of loss doesn't get chalked up to 'permanent'. It can come back to get you anytime.

Like today.

Creating a Great Childhood

I volunteered at our area Art Center this past weekend: Santa came to visit and kids could have their picture taken for a fee that supports Spiva's work. While they waited for their picture to develop, they came upstairs to decorate a picture frame that would house the photo.

It was so much fun to see young parents and their kids working together to create a masterpiece. I would remind them to put the year on the back of the frame so that they would always remember this experience. Some kids sat at the table for as long as 30 minutes, intent on designing just the right 'look' for their frame!

As I watched them with only the crayons, markers and stickers, I found myself wondering "when does this stop being enough and the desire for material posessions kick in?" And in that moment, I found myself mourning my own childhood, long gone.

My dad was the one who helped me create covers for my history reports and we had a blast designing the mailbox to hold my Valentines the next year. Though he died when I was quite young, those are still memories I have and remember.

I hope all kids these days get to have those experiences and build those memories for their futures, too.