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| He looks mean, but Puddy Tat was a very sweet cat... until he had to take a Christmas tree down.... |
And when I say he took it out, he trashed that tree like it had insulted his mother and took the last of his catnip. It was hanging by a cord of lights, and I was finding little decorations under furniture and in corners for months after the tree had met its demise.
When I saw what Puddy Tat had done with the tree, I wanted to be mad, but I couldn't. He looked at me with his big, gold eyes, rubbed up against my leg with a purr, and I melted. That night, when I went to bed, I found a tiny ornament on my bed, right next to a catnip mouse. It was like he was trying to give me a simple, humble, loving gift as best he could.
I know I promised to tell you the story of how my neighbors around the block have a unique take on displaying nativity scenes. Last year, they placed the Baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph on an old green leather sofa in their front yard. The sofa's springs were shot and they planned to throw it away at the next bulk garbage pick up. The Holy Family kind of leaned and wobbled in the winter winds on the worn out old couch, but they were off the ground, protected from the snow, and the scene echoed the story of the first Christmas - people putting up the Holy Family in humble surroundings.
This year, the neighbors placed their nativity scene - the Baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph (no Wise Men or sheep), inside a discarded child's playhouse. You can look through the windows and the front door of the Little Tikes toy and see Mary and Joseph looking down in awe at the Baby Jesus. The roof of the playhouse is adorned in netted Christmas lights, and the Nativity scene is designed to light up, but neither the Nativity nor the lights are plugged in, so it's hard to see the display at night (and equally hard to get a clear picture - but I'll have one soon). Still, they are protected from the elements, and this family is providing the best they can to the Holy Family.
I know I promised to write about those stories with a bit of ironic humor and a touch of whimsy, connecting the anecdotes to my family, but I just can't do it today. It's hard to be sarcastic on Christmas. Especially when I think about my family, and the idea of doing the best you can with what you have.
See, one of my family's traditions includes gathering in Mom's dining room on Christmas morning to exchange gifts. Sometimes we have a lot of gifts to exchange. Sometimes we don't. Sometimes we go overboard with our spending. Sometimes we can't. There is one thing that is a constant with all of our Christmas mornings. Mom, with a little sadness in her eyes and a lot of sincerity in her voice, always says, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you this Christmas, but I promise that next year...."
Some Christmas mornings, Deb and I will say it along with her, trying to turn her heartfelt apology into a quick joke to make her laugh. Some Christmas mornings, we try to cut her off before she begins her speech, our way of saying that there's no need to apologize. Every Christmas morning, we give her a big hug, a kiss on the cheek, tell her we love her, and that everything she does is more than enough.
This morning was no different. We exchanged gifts, laughed, joked, listened to music, and enjoyed being with each other. There were hugs, kisses on the cheek, we told each other, "I love you," and spent a very Merry Christmas morning with the people who matter the most to us.
Her words were, and are, a simple, humble display of love and her way of telling us she was doing, is doing, will always do, the best she can by us. And our hugs, kisses, jokes, and singing are our way of showing her that she doesn't have to buy us a gift. Her love for us is the best gift of all.
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| "At Christmas, all roads lead home." - Marjorie Holmes |
Merry Christmas everyone. Hugs, kisses, laughter, and love to you all - especially to you, Mom.
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