Feeling the Crunch...And I Don't Mean Snow

I wish I could hear the crunch of snow beneath my winter boots. I think it might put me in more of a Christmas spirit.

I've always loved the holidays and have never understood people who dread them. I would teasingly refer to them Scrooge or Grinch. This year I'm trying very hard not to put myself in that category. In looking back of 2009, it's easy to see why I might not be so elated with greeting what is supposed to be a joyous time of year. It's been a difficult year. I won't go into detail because I've dealt with a lot of the same issues most everyone else has at one time or another: divorce, sickness, death, unemployment. It all tends to suck the life out of a person, even someone like me who has rightfully earned the reputation of the optimistic, care-free, look-on-the-bright-side Pollyanna.

I've stayed away from malls and stores this Christmas. I don't have the money that I've had in previous shopping seasons. I thought it would be too depressing to be in a mall when I can't buy anything. But the other day I had to go to a certain store for a non-Christmas related purchase. You know what? I should have gone sooner. The beat of the cheerful Christmas tunes restarted a holiday rhythm in my soul. The glitter and twinkle of bells and balls made me smile. The wonder in the eyes of children searching for Santa warmed my heart.

Later that day I stopped by the grocery store. In the parking lot was a rusted out truck with a cardboard sign taped to it. It read: "Homeless vet needs work of any kind. Job in California. Just need the gas to get there." I considered that message with more compassion than I used to. I was embarrassed at what my inner reaction would have been just one year ago. But with the lesson the last year has taught me, I understood better. How many of my friends were not too far away from being in a similar situation? It's been a hard year for a lot of us.

I was asked this week what was the best Christmas gift I ever received. I thought of my favorite book on my shelf. It's a leather bound notebook filled with my father's handwritten stories and poems. A few years ago he gave identical books to my two sisters and me. He must have worked on these gifts for months. It cost him nothing but time and maybe a few bucks for the notebooks. But it truly is the best gift. He gave me a part of himself.

So how does this all tie together? Because as writers, you know we have to tie it all together, right? I think when I'm 90, I will look back on this Christmas as one of the most memorable. Not for what wasn't under the tree or stuffed in a stocking, but for what filled my home and heart. I've been given a most amazing gift. The wonderful part is that it is something I can give away, too. The gift is one of an ever-expanding heart. The hurts of this past year have increased my capacity for understanding, compassion, and love. Without the losses, I couldn't have gained so much. It's priceless.

And I have another gift, as well. It's the gift of words. Like my father gave to me, I can give a piece of myself to others. Because even though the past year has had it's hardships, there has been support and love, too. Won't those friends and family members smile when they see their gift from me: A long letter to my 90 year old grandma filled with all the stuff I meant to write all year long but didn't make the time. A thank you to my parents for their unwavering support and abundant love. A fun poem to my best friend who finalized a divorce this year, too and helped me find something laugh at almost every day. A list of really useful advice (like how to catch an escaped hamster) to my corporate-ladder sister who lives in a world SO different from mine but asks for my opinion all the time anyway. And I'm-Proud-of-You-Because letters to my children because I really am so proud of them. It will cost me nothing but time and few bucks for paper. I'm guessing these gifts will be remembered long after the others have been forgotten.

Remember your true gifts this Christmas and share them. I promise, it will put you in the Christmas spirit.

Merry Christmas,

Deborah Macias
www.roaringmoms.blogspot.com

Our First Christmas

Our first Christmas after our wedding found us in Arkansas where Vince was stationed at Little Rock Air Force Base. Our railroad style apartment was in North Little Rock in a four unit building. We were dirt poor but wanted to celebrate Christmas like we both had back at our families’ homes. That meant at least a tree with all the trimmings. We soon found all we could afford was one string of lights. No tree. No ornaments. Just lights.


Vince proved the hero of the day when he appeared at our apartment door one afternoon with a real pine tree. I was aghast when he told me he had driven out into the countryside and “chopped” down a pine tree with my butcher knife. I thought he was lucky he didn’t get shot. My poor butcher knife was never the same. I thought it the most wonderful tree in the world. I’m certain I rewarded him suitably for such heroics.
Immediately I set to work making decorations for our grand tree. I colored and cut out paper ornaments. We strung popcorn for garland and then splurged and bought tinsel. That weekend we spent a very romantic evening decorating it while we listened to Christmas music. The only photo I could find shows not only that I was a poor photographer but that the tree had a few large gaps between the branches. That green thing bottom right is a green net tree I sewed. I still have it and a few of the original ornaments from our first tree.

Something else I did to decorate was use Glass Wax Stencils. These were heavily waxed, hence waterproof, stencils which I stenciled onto windows and mirrors using Glass Wax window cleaner. The cleaner dried white—to the left is the mirror above the fake fireplace in our apartment in N. Little Rock. When I rubbed the stencil off after Christmas I had the bonus of a clean mirror. I still have the stencils and continue to use them.

Vince surprised me by arranging for us to go “home” to Kansas on Christmas Eve. The photo at the top (we are sooooo young!) was taken at my parents’ house that first Christmas. The gift from Vince is a watch. But gifts weren’t necessary. The previous year he had been overseas serving in what is now called the Vietnam Conflict. This first Christmas we were together; we were married. We had a gorgeous tree, gorgeous because it and its decorations reflected our love for one another. We now have forty two years of ornaments and garland and Vince always does a spectacular job decorating the tree, but none ever meant as much as the one we had on our First Christmas.

What are some of your First Christmas memories? First Christmas away from home. First married. There are a lot of different firsts Christmases. Share some. Merry Christmas!