The Christmas Curmudgeon

A Christmas picture of most

but not all the Alter bunch

 

Facebook has been reminding us a lot lately that for many people the holidays are not the joyful family time that most of us dream of. Some are grieving, or sick, or lonely. It can be a hard time to face, with memories of happier times making the bad times all the harder. It's good advice, and something we should all keep in mind. Tonight I am, as I have been every Christmas of my life, surrounded by family, so I can't speak for the deep depression that some feel at the holidays.
But I've decided that joy at Christmas and feeling the spirit is a two-way street. If you're blue and alone, go serve at a soup kitchen, go to a church carol sing, reach out to a neighbor who may be alone or not realize that you are. My kids are off caroling tonight while I babysit the youngest who was too tired to go. But they'll come back, full of hot chocolate and cider, and bringing the Christmas spirit with them.
I sat at a mall table today with a young woman who was alone. Actually I asked if she minded if I sat there while my family decided what to do next. It was, I explained, like herding cats. She smiled and was gracious, but when several of my family descended on the table to eat cupcakes, she excused herself. I said we didn't mean to rush her off, and she said no, she really needed to go. But I worried about her the rest of the day. She didn't seem capable of reaching out to me like the woman I met in line tonight waiting for our turn at the restroom. By the time we parted, we were old friends. Christmas does that to some people. I wish others could get that spirit .
Last night I decided I was a being a bit of a curmudgeon myself, withdrawing into myself. Maybe I was remembering Christmases when the grandkids were young, cuddly, and awed by the whole thing, or maybe it was even my children's early Christmases. But everything seemed hectic and loud and disorganized to me. When I went to bed, I talked to the Lord about it and resolved not to think so much about how I was feeling and to think more about how my family was feeling. I wanted to make them glad I was in the midst of them.
This morning when I got up the first thing I did was to wash my hair and put on makeup. It made an enormous difference in my attitude, and I've had a terrific day.
I wish for each of you a joyous Christmas. If you celebrate, I wish you may feel the spirit of the gift of the Christ Child bringing joy, hope and peace to the world. If you don't celebrate the holy day, I wish for you the joy of the season.

Brightening my mood

I've had a case of the blahs lately. I thought it was because I'd had such a busy time there for a bit, with big events, and then I settled down to the ordinary--although today I met with a book club that I thoroughly enjoyed. A lively, wonderful group of women who were full of questions and weren't afraid to suggest what they saw as flaws in Skeleton in a Dead Space. On the whole, though, they were enthusiastic about the book, and those that read the second book said they thought Kelly was better in that one. Growing into your characters or letting your characters grow or whatever--it was nice to hear.
But this afternoon Jordan and I each had different agendas, and she said I was cross and curmudgeonly lately--why is it me, when she's determined to stick to her agenda, which was wine with the girl next door at whose house Jacob was playing. Anyway, we made nice, went over the recipes I wanted her to look at, and she went off to have wine. I declined because Sue was coming for wine shortly, and I figured it didn't become me to sip my way through the afternoon.
But I've also been put out with my oldest son because he planned a big family reunion for Memorial Day--and forgot to tell me. Oh, I knew it was a possibility that the New York Alters would come visit, but no one told me there were definite plans for them to come to Houston, not Fort Worth. My nose was out of joint, and I considered cutting him out of my will. Well, not really.
But Sue and I were talking about diet, and she said she gets crabby when she cuts out carbs--I haven't had bread since I overindulged when the Canterbury Choir boys were here. Sue ate a slice of peanut butter toast this morning and said she immediately felt better. Hmmm--something for me to think about.
I had a good visit with Sue. She's only a tiny bit older than my oldest, and she calls me her Fort Worth mom, but we are also good friends. So we talked about everything from kids to parents to food--you name it. I chide her about some things, and she's not afraid to tell me when I'm wrong. When she left I went off to the Grill to have my weekly meatloaf fix with the neighbors, most of whom had already finished their suppers, so I righteously ate only half my meatloaf and brought the other half home. But their conversation, along with Sue's took me out of my funk. If you will, it took me out of myself.
I have a routine doctor's appointment tomorrow, but I'm going to ask about carbs (honest, I've lost four lbs.).
Meantime I think I'll have peanut butter toast for breakfast.