Living Out Loud. ( v11). Tis the gift to be simple.
The 2009 Christmas season has been an unusual one. Instead of the traditional parties, getting together with friends, and full-on house decorating, most of my time has been spent going through everything I own and weeding it down to the 4 or 5 plastic tubs that will fit in my car. You would think after having moved so many times this would not be an issue for me but somehow, like everyone else, I manage to clutter up my house and my life with more things and more clothes than I can ever use or even need.
This cleaning out of the house has lead to a little cleaning out of the head, too, and that’s a cool thing. Aside from my clothes, my camera, my journals, some music and my dogs, there isn’t much more I’m inclined to keep right now. It’s disturbing to notice how attached I’ve become to things, simply because they were given to me by or belonged to someone special, and I realize that I am a packrat of memories and a hoarder of my past. All that holding onto what’s over, what isn’t and what sometimes never was, has left me feeling weighted down and a little suffocated. Don’t get me wrong ~ I honestly envy those friends of mine who are settled in their homes, surrounded by stuff, and comfortable in their lives and content with their families, and I want that too. It’s just that instinct has been telling me for a long time now to let go and follow this direction, this move to LA, and I know in my heart that what I want within my life waits out there for me. I know that in a way I cannot explain. And I know these things can be replaced.
Yet even without the usual Christmas festivities, this holiday season has been more memorable than most. It snowed the first weekend of the month, and I’d driven up to Louisa to sell my photographs at the local Christmas festival and parade. Though the exhibit turned out to be a bust, the afternoon that I spent with the OBX gang over lunch and coffee was a blast. After driving to my parent’s house in the falling snow, I was greeted with a lighted Christmas tree waiting for decorations, and the evening was spent with wine, dinner, great music, a roaring fire, and my mom and dad. That felt like Christmas to me.
Back at the beach, I’ve had 3 or 4 small goodbye parties and our annual work Christmas dinner. In the past two days I’ve seen three dear friends I haven’t been able to connect with in over a year. And today, while mom and stepdad enjoy another snowstorm 150 miles to the west, it’s pouring rain here and I’m home filling boxes for donation to the women’s shelter and sorting out which framed photographs to give to which friends ~ because they aren’t going with me.
On the day after Christmas, after spending the holiday with my mom and Hosa and their two dogs, LolliPop and Daisy and I will have breakfast and head west. But before that, we’ll have Christmas dinner on the 23rd, and our usual oyster breakfast at my sister Janet’s house Christmas morning. If I’m lucky all of my nieces and nephews will make it home and my grandmother, affectionately known as Big Mama, will be on the good side of her Alzheimer’s, meaning that even though she’ll forget six times that it’s Christmas, she’ll be happy and smiling instead of belligerent and nasty and enjoying every minute of that.
Janet and I can share a glass of her Evan Williams egg nog before bed and maybe visit our friends the Chaney’s. Suzanne and I practically grew up together, as her dad and mine, before he died, were state troopers together. Every Christmas Eve, Jerry would go running outside with his gun and pretend he was shooting Santa. Yes, it sounds horrible, but it was truly funny, once you were old enough to know he wasn’t really shooting poor Santa. And I’m from the country, so if the skies are clear, I’ll get to see a billion stars shining overhead before moving to a city that has it’s share of stars, but doesn’t quite enjoy the same view.
My neighbors are having another dinner party tonight, but right now, I have candles lit, a glass of mulled wine, and A Charlie Brown Christmas playing on the stereo, and I’m listening to the dogs snoring in their sleep. Last Saturday evening, after Lolli injured her back, I took all the covers off my bed and curled up on the floor in the living room next to her and fell asleep to the tune of Christmas Time is Here. I had the best nap of my life. It’s been a busy day, but I’m pretty content as I sit here for a few moments, doing absolutely nothing. Right now I’m between here and there ~ and that’s a peaceful place to be.