Anyway. This is a very wordy way of saying that I'm alive. Things are interesting. Life has been crazy but it is, above all, good. And, mostly, I am glad that I'm able to recognize that now.
Speaking of which, this was the best Christmas of all the Christmases I can remember. Not in traditional terms of what I would define as "best", either, which is why I think I loved it so much. But more of that with the Future Update of 2012. (F.U.12, for short. aha. ha ha.)
(That really wasn't funny. Oh well. I'm tired.)
That said, I've stayed up until almost 3 and had too many early mornings for far too many days in a row. And we're going to the beach tomorrow morning. And it's almost 1 AM again. Drat! How do the good days escape so quickly? Oh well. It's bed for me at last. If I don't have a chance to write tomorrow, I hope you have a blessed end of this year, and a great beginning of the next one.
In closing, I shall copy a post that I wrote on my facebook the other day that sums up, fairly well, the most important "holiday" feeling that I have felt in this last month of 2011.
To all of the people I love (you know who you are),
I want to say Merry Christmas and God bless you as you enjoy the last few days of 2011. I've been thinking today about how blessed I am to have such fantastic people in my life, and about how rarely people actually say how thankful they are for each other. If I haven't told you recently, I am thankful for you, and for the effect you've had on my life. I pray for you often, especially now that we're heading into a new year. I hope that you follow all of the rabbit trails (even a few holes, if it seems appropriate), finding adventure when you want it and comfort when you need it. Remember to love your family and friends, because they love you. And remember to trust God to handle the things that you can't - because we all have a lot of those things, no matter how "together" we seem to have it.
Thanks for being a part of my life this year, and I look forward to many more crazy adventures next year.
Also, I had a dream about The Dining Room last night, and it struck me that the ending monologue is really quite fitting for this transition between years. So imagine, if you will, a dim stage with a table, four chairs, and two newly lit candles.
Lately I've been having this recurrent dream. We're giving this perfect party. We have our dining room back, and grandmother's silver, before it was stolen; and Charlie's mother's royal blue dinner plates, before the movers dropped them; and even the fingerbowls, if I knew where they were. And I've invited all of our favorite people. Oh, I don't just mean our old friends; I mean anyone that we've ever known and liked. We'd have the man who fixes our Toyota, and that intelligent young couple who bought the Payton house. And the receptionist at the doctor's office, and the new teller at the bank. And our children would be invited, too. And they'd all come back from wherever they are. And we've have two cocktails and hot hors d'oeuvres, a first rate cook in the kitchen, and two maids to serve - and everyone would get along famously! My husband laughs when I tell him this dream. "Do you realize," he says, "what a party like that would cost? Do you realize what we'd have to pay these days for a party like that?" Well, I know. I know all of that. But sometimes I think it might almost be worth it.
To All of Us.
