“I don’t even want to be home when there’s a blizzard,” she says to me last night, wind howling. “I’d rather be at work.”
I paused for a minute and thought about what she just said. I flashed to my own thoughts on being tucked safely home. The gusts of sharp and icy snow were noisy on the window, that is true. But then I think of my babies, clean and tucked in together, curled around the same stuffed monkey like pack animals. Clothes dryer rattling away, dishwasher swishing, Christmas tree twinkling (it looks like it was decorated by dwarves with a small degree of mental illness) (the cat hasn’t helped that situation) and Lea Michele belting “O Holy Night” from my kitchen speakers add to my contentment.
I don’t understand. I can’t relate.
There is nothing I love more than knowing that we shouldn’t leave even if we wanted to or, rather, if someone else wanted us to be somewhere. I love the feeling of a warm home and a full belly and hot tea and soft music on a bitter and angry night.
It makes me take a moment to give thanks for everything we DO have instead of focusing, as I often do, about what we do NOT have or CANNOT possibly afford.
Today, I am in an airport (thank you Free Wi-Fi) waiting for a plane to take me to Tampa. It could not have come at a better time. A little sunshine, quite a bit of work, an extra paycheck so I can take care of a few Christmas wants as well as our needs…these are all good things and helps settle the mind a bit. I kissed my babies goodbye this morning after an extended group hug and promises that I will see them in a few days. They didn’t fuss or bat an eye; they know I am good to my word.
Maybe it was the minor blizzard that reset our spirits and reconnected us. Maybe it made us ready, made me ready, to do the work and come home with open arms and ready to continue.
This Christmas seems different somehow. I’m still working on pinpointing the change. Is it me? Is it someone else? The girls? Are we more settled? Has enough time passed to make it all less empty?