It's a wonderful life

Is anyone else out there stressed to the max over one single day that rolls around on the same date every year? I just realized that today is December 16th, 9 days from the main event. There is no tree in my house, the decorations are half way complete and the gift list is long. I have no menu planned for my Christmas eve guests, not a cookie baked and I think maybe my hair is starting to fall out.

Sound familiar? I have never, not ever, been this far behind. I need a Clarence. I need an angel and an angle to figure it out this year. Part in blame is the puppy that stole my heart and my sanity that now lives with me, the other part is that I resigned one job to do my own thing and fortunately ended up being busier than I ever thought.

But yet I have had time to wonder what would have happened I had never been. The list of naughty and nice could be long, but I think of the little things in life that have hopefully made an impact. Years ago I met a young man that worked in a telemarketing room where I was employed as the marketing person. He came to me distressed because he wanted to resign his supervisor position to apply to medical school. I sat him down, told him to look at the big picture and wrote him a glowing letter of recommendation.  His father later contacted me to tell me he had been accepted to med school, so proud and happy I could hear him beaming through the phone.  I wonder where that young man is  now. I wonder about the lives he has touched. I wonder if Clarence would approve of that moment in time.

'Tis the season to pay it forward, and sometimes it doesn't cost a dime. Maybe that is truly the best gift of all.

All wrapped up....: Tinsel and bows

All wrapped up....: Tinsel and bows: "You've got to hand it to Martha. Her take on gift wrapping is quite inventive and often uses resources that are readily available. And are o..."

Tinsel and bows

You've got to hand it to Martha. Her take on gift wrapping is quite inventive and often uses resources that are readily available. And even eco-friendly. After all, who doesn't love a beautifully wrapped gift under the tree? I sure used to. Until the gifts were opened and the wrapping paper was all over the floor and stuffed into big green trash bags. Then onto the landfills and wastes and dumps. There was a time I spent as much time decorating and accessorizing a gift as I did selecting the gift itself. The outside was as pretty as what was on the inside.

As I become comfortable in my own skin, I focus less on the packaging. After all, the wrapping has wrinkled and the package isn't as sturdy as it once was. When all the focus is on the exterior, we begin to miss what truly counts - what's on the inside of all those lovely trimmings? What is the substance underneath the glitz? Is the gift sincere? Honest? Will it stand the test of time? What is the value, the true worth?

So often that excitement over the packaging overshadows the product, the "crux of the biscuit", the core, the marrow. We miss the true gift, one that has taken years to develop. The true gift of Christmas doesn't come in a box. In comes from reaching out a hand to another in a gesture of kindness and goodwill. It comes from the heart. And asks to be returned.

www.marthastewart.com/photogallery/wrap-it-up

http://ping.fm/oufL8

Come what may...: 2010 the year that was...

Come what may...: 2010 the year that was...: "Usually I write more than a blogger should. This week I've attached two links that don't need alot of words. The first is Time Magazine..."

2010 the year that was...

Usually I write more than a blogger should. This week I've attached two links that don't need alot of words. The first is Time Magazines' photos from 2010. View the photos, then click on the utube link.
Nuff said. Welcome new year, come what may.


http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,2036245,00.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZzmTFBPMhk8&feature=related

At the end of the day

We called them the Pantry Pride Princess and the Duke of the Deli. They met at the local grocery store where they both worked - she a widow, he never married. Marie had raised two girls single handedly and he grew to love them as though they were his own. They made their home on Mayfield Ave off  "BLAIR Rd" (the correct pronunciation if you're from Baltimore. Also know as "Belair Rd") in a row house with a concrete back yard. Goetze's Caramel Cremes were perpetually mounded in the candy dish, replenished as soon as they were devoured. With lamp shades and furniture protected by plastic, sweaty in the humid city summers, Gert & Gare (as we called them fondly) settled into their own safe haven.

And safe it was. His number one job was to look after her. She never drove, never had a drivers license, he took her everywhere. Diners and bingo and the Meat Cutters Union Hall were the norm, a visit to the VFW on occasion. A daschund named Sandy resided in that brick house. She resembled a loaf of bread on legs and was renamed "Lutsie Girl" or "Little Girl" ironic though it may seem. Life was low key but full of love.

On Mayfield Ave we knew we were cared for, comforted, secure. Tonight at the funeral home we said our last goodbye to Gary. Marie - at 90 - sat in a chair, tears in her stoic eyes. "Are you OK?" we asked. "As best as can be expected" was the answer. After over 40 years of companionship the long rides together had come to a rest. The words on the ribbon draped across the flowers on the casket did not read "Spouse" or "Husband" or "Father".  They read "Beloved Friend". Two simple words. Two words that told the world what they were to each other. Simple, succinct and safe. Just as they were in life.