Watching and Waiting for All Things Christmas

A cup of warm coffee sat on my kitchen table next to my laptop. Feverishly at work, I didn't notice Don had pulled out his pressure cooker and started cooking. When an unrecognizable smell caught my attention, I realized he was cooking squirrel - the three squirrels he shot in our backyard.

I tried to stay composed. But was unsuccessful.

Before long, I bolted from the room, trying not to gag. But again, was unsuccessful. As I choked, sputtered, and coughed, Don walked in, "Is this all because of the squirrel?"

"Yes!" Cough. Gag. Dry heave. "I told you I have mental issues with food. I'm trying to support you but I've got to get out of here."

A jolt of reason hit.

"Hey, will you please just move that crock-pot to the basement so our home won't fill up with that smell?"

Obviously concerned, he agreed to move the cooking apparatus. So I grabbed my medicine and phone and found refuge on our back porch until the odor abated.

When his squirrel concoction was underway, my farm-boy spouse found me and said, "Want to work on the outdoor lights?"

"Sure," I agreed, still recovering.

A sudden whiff caused one more gagging episode, but once I settled down again, we strung lights for two hours. Lots of lights. Between the seventy degree weather and my desire to avoid anything squirrel, I dug through boxes, determined to use all of our working strands.

At one point Don said, "This kind of light display would have been considered way too showy when I was growing up."

With that, it didn't take long for us to reconcile that since I had acquiesced to his desire for squirrel soup, he would support my need for a grandiose outdoor display. So while his soup cooked in our basement, he strung lights without complaint.

Merry Matrimony, indeed.

At the moment I'm sitting next to my friend, Bonnie. Her friend and caregiver, Lu, is following computer prompts to make a picture book of her life. I stopped by to avoid dinner with my spouse... and to pick up the last of their edits on my manuscript. Bonnie and Lu have worked late into the night, searching for skipped words and grammatical errors.

Determined to keep fighting while her body declines due to the effects of ALS, Bonnie took time to focus her efforts on me. Instead of finishing her photo memoirs, she accomplished a huge task I couldn't have done on my own. So feeding her spaghetti tonight is a piece of cake, especially compared to eating squirrel with Don.

That said, before I left their house Monday night, Bonnie asked Lu's grandson to help her hug me goodnight. Having been unable to move her arms since we met, we'd never attempted a hug.

On Monday night, however, while I bent down on my knees, Cameron placed one of Bonnie's arms around me, and Lu the other. I, in return, held her tight.

And the memory lingers.

Christmas comes in lots of ways. Presents under a tree. Time with family. Or at a service where the hold hush emanates in a way that only occurs during this time of year.

But it also comes on a front porch when you exchange squirrel soup for strung lights. Or when you hold onto a hug a moment longer because it may never happen again. Or when your friends stay up till two in the morning, proofreading your book.

Yes, Christmas comes in lots of ways this time of year. So watch for it. Wait for it. Expect it. Relish it.

I've been rehearsing this song with my Thursday morning adult students and the words always take me deep. I linger in the quiet and try to "ponder nothing earthly minded."

Just for a minute or a moment. But it's really what I'd like to do all season long; just watch and wait for all things Christmas.






photo credit: Vintage Christmas 1958 Magazine Cover, Arizona Highways via photopin (license) photo credit: "Hey, I'm trying to Relax Here" via photopin (license) photo credit: Sit back, relax, and enjoy your day! via photopin (license) photo credit: Lentil soup with pepper and toast via photopin (license) photo credit: Navidad en Liseberg via photopin (license)