I’m not dreaming of a white Christmas. No way it’s gonna happen here in tropical Palm City, Florida. But I sure wouldn’t mind if the temperature dropped.
It was 80 degrees yesterday when we hung our coastal evergreen wreath from L.L.Bean next to the front door. This morning I said “Hi” to a supermarket Santa wearing a red hat, red and white checked shirt and green Bermudas. And then I drove home from Publix passing a Frosty the Snowman statue standing in front of a palm tree.
Music always puts me in a happy mood, and our house resounds with the engaging melodies of Sufjan Stevens’ Christmas album. When I’m in the car, I tune in to Sirius XM’s holiday music channels and get misty-eyed when I hear “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”
But somehow doing the “12 Days of Christmas” at my water aerobics class doesn’t spark quite the same musical magic. (EIGHT rapid frog kicks! SEVEN lunging ski leaps! SIX cycling mermaids! FIVE JUMPING JACKS! da da da da dah!)
Fortunately, I have a memory bank which I visit frequently during December. It’s the best time of year to make withdrawals. When I was a little girl, I can’t recall a Christmas when we didn’t wake up to snow falling outside our farmhouse in upstate New York. When my kids were toddlers, their belief in Santa was cemented when, on one particular Christmas Eve, they saw the Big Man himself run across our front lawn with a thick pack on his back; fortunately they were asleep by the time this dear neighbor finished his rounds and stopped in for a well-deserved toddy.
These past few years we’ve spent the holidays at my daughter’s house in snowy New Hampshire where Kringle, their elf on the shelf, magically appeared each morning in the countdown to Christmas, always sitting in a new location and brightening the glow in little Maddie’s eyes
Do I miss all that? Oh yes, I do.
But I also know that this special season of Christmas has more to do with the heart than the mind. It’s the time of year when we truly should count our blessings. Mr. Wonderful and I creak and groan when we rise each morning, but we actually manage to rise! Our cherished grandkids are way up north but we’ve got photos, texts and phone calls that keep them present in our daily life. The golf game? The waist line? Well, that’s another story. We can’t have everything.
But Santa, if you want to know what I really want for Christmas, here’s a hint: a silent night with peace on earth, and in the morning: joy to the world. Thank you.
Merry Christmas and thank you to all my wonderful readers! We’re now on Christmas break. Gotta open some presents, drink some eggnog, see “Star Wars: The Force Awakens,” welcome dear friends from Kennebunk for New Year’s Eve, and make some resolutions. I’ll be back in 2016! (And special thanks to Ken Janes for the fabulous Christmas scene above and for all his photos that have made my blog look good!)