Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Solstice Season, Take Six

This is my sixth winter living in A World Without and, this year, I am trying (yet) another approach. This is the Year of Full-On Celebration. The tree has been up for weeks. Not only are there lights strung on the front porch, there's a fully-lit tree there, too. Sparkly, multi-colored lights twinkling from dusk til dawn.

Inside, there's a festive string, à la Donna Reed, bedecked with cards from near and far. I sent cards this year, and - so far - I'm running about a 55% return rate. (Which isn't bad when you take into account my 5-year hiatus.) I count all the cards received up to New Years Day, so it's looking pretty good, even if certain people have de-listed me. (You know who you are.)

I even shopped. Not excessively, not with abandon, but with a certain measure of the joy and trepidation of past years. Will he like it? Oh, she'll love this! And I chose a wrapping theme (silver foil papers with green and blue and white ribbons and bows) that Himself promptly corrupted with a gold foil box tied 'round with a deep red ribbon. (Mens!) I am fairly certain there's yummy chocolate from our newly opened neighborhood chocolatier in that box, so I am going to overlook it. (I am also going to move it before the official Picture of the Tree - 2010 is taken. But then I'm going to put it back.)

There's a lot to celebrate this year. My Girl's Nana (also known as my dearest MIL) has come to live with us. While the reasons for it are not particularly celebratory, it's a joy and comfort to have her under our roof. There have been babies and rumors of babies. A wedding. Many plans for the future. There's been new sadness as well, fresh grief to lay over the the too-fresh grief that already blankets our world. In short, life keeps happening.

Which brings us here, to the Winter Solstice. The moon hung full and bright in the not-quite-dark sky as I drove home from work Monday evening. And as I twisted and turned along the marsh's edge I could hear Britt's voice, clear as a bell. 'We're going to build a fire, Maija, and dance around it while the moon rises! Winter's death knell...just as it begins, it begins to end. That's an excellent reason for a party, I think!'

So do I, Baby Girl. So do I.

9 comments:

Renee said...

I was tickled to get your card this year, Debi. Celebrate away! Even while keeping the sadness. xoxo

Mary Catherine said...

Excellent indeed!

ConnieKK said...

Debi, You are doing just great. Acceptance is a gift, which you have received - and are using well.

Stephen said...

moving

FOODalogue said...

...so eloquently and honestly expressed.

Lisa said...

I don't know any other time of year that's so papered over with associations and emotions, good and bad. I don't even think it's possible to get to the bottom of them -- you just ride with it. Anyway, I'm always happy to get a card from you.

Tinsel, tinsel, liquor, lights. Lovely post, even if I was sorry to see the skinks bumped off the front page.

Debi Harbuck said...

"Tinsel, tinsel, liquor, lights" may be the best seasonal mantra ever. May I use that?

Connie, I think you overestimate me (most of the time!:). In truth, I've yet to get anywhere close to 'acceptance'...I'm not even sure what it would look like. What I have found are moments of clarity and moments of peace. Every once in a while, they collide and result in a Very Good Thing.

Thank you, all, for stopping by here. It's a sweet to know you are out there.

Jesse Wiedinmyer said...

If you figure out how to reject it, let me know.

Cordel said...

Debi, I am just getting around to blogs, and was delighted to read this one. This is the first year I have not sent cards. Perhaps I will be back next year. We did the celebration. With three kids and spice, and four grandchildren, celebration was a necessity. Love to you and yours, Sheila