We have the change of seasons down here and the past few days have shown us frost on the grass and trees. It was actually warmer in Cleveland today than down here. That sucks. But, when it snows here (and it does), it's always funny to see the palm trees weighted down with cold, wet snow.
Christmas is just around the corner and I'm glad all of our "stuff" is done. Everything is wrapped or sent and we are getting ready to put our box of Christmas cards away. When I was growing up, I used to love to open Christmas cards. My sisters and I used to argue over which card our family got was the prettiest and which one should be the most prominently displayed on the front door. I liked the sparkly ones the best.
After Tony and I got married, we used to tape the cards we got all over the living room. There were so many cards. That was before people sent cards with their family photos on the front of them so we got lots of hand written notes of good wishes and a happy new year. It was a way to connect after a long year.
Over the years, the amount of cards we received and sent has significantly decreased. Go figure, in 1960, a postage stamp was $.05. Now, it's many times over that, so it's no wonder people have drastically cut down on their Christmas card mailing lists. It's sad that a beautiful tradition has fallen to the wayside because of money. And it's sad not to hear from friends and family that you care about. It always seemed like maybe you didn't hear from them all year, but you could count on that one, special touch, saying, "I'm still here and I still care about you."
I used to work with a woman named Pat Utsey at New York Life. She had the reputation of being a mean spirited, crabby, task master who worked her people to death and didn't have a kind word for anyone. When I went to New York for cross-training, I had to spend a week with Pat and her team. I certainly wasn't looking forward to that trip. But, as in so many cases, the all of that information was totally wrong. I found Pat to be kind, funny, full of confidence and a lady who knew her stuff. We became good friends. It's been more than 8 years since I worked at New York Life, but I get a card from Pat every year, wishing me and my family well and filling me in on all of the NYL gossip--just like always.
It's sad to not connect with others at Christmas, but it's even harder when they aren't there for Christmas anymore. I'm reading a book called, "A Father's Grief," written by a man who lives here in Compass Pointe. In August, 2016, he lost his 17 year old daughter, Lindsay, when she was leaving our development and was in a terrible car accident. As you open the book, the grief he feels sits on your heart until you put the book down again. It's on every page, in every word and especially in every picture he shares. His book started as a blog to recognize his feelings and heal. I give him much credit as a writer and a parent for doing this. Each keystroke on the page had to be incredibly hard for him, but he did it. He did it as a guide to grief and a tribute to Lindsay and he did it well.
So, OK, it's cold, OK, we didn't get as many Christmas cards as we did last year, OK, our house will be quiet on Christmas day, but we know that while our children aren't here, they are somewhere, safe. All of our children are enjoying Christmas with their own families and watching their own children light up the room with Christmas happiness. As parents, we couldn't ask for a better Christmas gift.
Merry Christmas to all.
I used to work with a woman named Pat Utsey at New York Life. She had the reputation of being a mean spirited, crabby, task master who worked her people to death and didn't have a kind word for anyone. When I went to New York for cross-training, I had to spend a week with Pat and her team. I certainly wasn't looking forward to that trip. But, as in so many cases, the all of that information was totally wrong. I found Pat to be kind, funny, full of confidence and a lady who knew her stuff. We became good friends. It's been more than 8 years since I worked at New York Life, but I get a card from Pat every year, wishing me and my family well and filling me in on all of the NYL gossip--just like always.
It's sad to not connect with others at Christmas, but it's even harder when they aren't there for Christmas anymore. I'm reading a book called, "A Father's Grief," written by a man who lives here in Compass Pointe. In August, 2016, he lost his 17 year old daughter, Lindsay, when she was leaving our development and was in a terrible car accident. As you open the book, the grief he feels sits on your heart until you put the book down again. It's on every page, in every word and especially in every picture he shares. His book started as a blog to recognize his feelings and heal. I give him much credit as a writer and a parent for doing this. Each keystroke on the page had to be incredibly hard for him, but he did it. He did it as a guide to grief and a tribute to Lindsay and he did it well.
So, OK, it's cold, OK, we didn't get as many Christmas cards as we did last year, OK, our house will be quiet on Christmas day, but we know that while our children aren't here, they are somewhere, safe. All of our children are enjoying Christmas with their own families and watching their own children light up the room with Christmas happiness. As parents, we couldn't ask for a better Christmas gift.
Merry Christmas to all.
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