Skip to main content

Christmas cards




I sat down to reluctantly address Christmas cards. While our list has slowly dwindled through the years it's still a sizeable number, especially when it's viewed as a task approached reluctantly. Know what I mean? Some Christmas 'tasks' are a lot less taskier - like decorating or shopping or eating or opening presents. I mean, there's a whole different level of enthusiasm associated with 'tasks' that aren't viewed as tasks - I can't ever remember a time when I sat down to reluctantly open a present or eat a Christmas cookie!

Anyway, I approached the Christmas card addressing with a less-than-positive, more bah-humbugish attitude. I poured a cup of coffee, grabbed the markers (I had to have a green, a red and a black one), the list and of course the envelopes (which John had already stuffed with the card). I turned on some Christmas music, but not too loud or it would distract me (and it really doesn't take much to distract me. Squirrel!), and I sat in my favorite spot on the couch. Wally, of course, jumped up next to me ready to nap the next hour or so by my side. Ready to begin, I sighed, and grabbed the first envelope and chose my color marker...

A funny thing happened. With that envelope, and each on after, I imagined each person or persons as I wrote their name. I had pleasant thoughts of thing we'd done in the past or conversations we've had or ones I wanted to have. For the few minutes I was addressing, I was (in my thoughts) with that friend or family member. My frown turning upside down, I even laughed a couple times. Each subsequent envelope took a little longer as I stayed in the remembrance or thoughts and the 'task' became an activity of joy. 

I thought of the summers on Drummond Island, when the parents had as much (or more!) fun as the kids.






I thought of how we packed the back of your Outback, with school supplies for students in need and how we joked that it was a good thing they weren't going in my Mini.



I thought of the Wolverine hanging in effigy at the first MSU tailgate I had attended in a gazillion years.
 

And I remembered the family wedding an the picture that captures each of us, our personalities, perfectly.

I thought of a class reunion, the first I'd ever attended, and the friends that remain so dear that I don't want to lose touch ever again.
I was thinking of a time when a friend and I donned hideously obnoxious sunglasses much to the horror of our toddler sons and husbands. 

And after nearly two hours, so lost in the memories, those included here and hundreds of others, that I couldn't understand why the heck there was Christmas music playing and why Wally was so restless making whining noises and sighing. The envelopes were addressed and my time spent with each of you was just the tonic to make that time enjoyable and oh so worthwhile.

Merry Christmas to all - even those that don't get a card from the Piggins clan (I'm fairly certain, I had wonderful reminiscences about you too!

Comments

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

A Hole in My Heart Where Sandy Should Be

The past two days have passed with little joy and I find that I'm restless and cannot focus. I don't like being home because of the thousand reminders of my sweet Sandy and yet I can't be away because I don't feel like engaging in anything other than my own personal sorrow. Yes, she was 'just a dog' but oh what a dog she was. . . I learned a lot about loyalty and unconditional love from Sandy. And in that, I believe that God gives us these loving dogs so that we can learn a little about His love for us - that unconditional love. Even on my worst day when I might not have been paying much attention to Sandy, she was still there and still loving. Wow. There is no doubt in my mind that putting her down and out of her misery was the right thing for Sandy - she must have been so riddled with cancer and in such pain. Her last day she couldn't even keep water down; I imagine that her entire body must have been affected by the cancer. Then I think back to her last d...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...

Ch ... Ch ... Chemo

I was ready. I was prepared. The potential side-effect list was long and one I'd had some familiarity when John went through his treatment.  So I gathered my arsenal. I had my compazine, zofran and antivan. I had my ginger chewables and chicken noodle soup. I was armed and potentially dangerous. So, chemo day with the toxic chemo cocktail starting to do it's job, I envisioned it as either PacMan, eating away at the cancer cells or a Chia Pet, allowing my good cells to thrive. With these visions, (that aren't quite Christmas Eve sugar plums dancing) and tired from the chemo, I went to bed early. Friday, under the watchful eye of my caregiving hubby, I slept most of the day away. Not really hungry but not nauseous either. I spent the majority of the day horizontal on the couch listening to my book on Audible (despite the sleep timer, I probably missed 1/3 of what I 'read'), dozing, answering calls and texts, and snacking.  Perhaps the highlight of the ...