…and after the egg nog, not a creature was stirring, not even the dogs.
I’m sitting here in the living room, with cheery Christmas songs playing on the TV (I love the fact that I can listen to music on any of several music stations that come with our cable service) and a few Santa cookies sitting on the table beside me. The lights around the patio door are twinkling blue, green, red and yellow, while the tree lights are off because Ben forgot to plug them in and I can’t reach the cord to do it myself. Everyone is in bed for the night, except me of course, and it’s peaceful and quiet…just like the nights back when Will and I would sit together on the sofa, our Christmas duties done, and cuddle while carols played in the background.
I’ve talked before about how much I miss those times, so I won’t belabor the point by going on and on. I’ve made my peace with those Christmases of the past and I’m ready to celebrate the holiday in its new manifestations, whatever they may be. This year we’re going to eat, drink and be merry at the casino for Christmas dinner, instead of hosting a big meal like we did at Thanksgiving. We did this a few years back when Will was still here, and I can tell you the salmon is to die for. It’s the biggest buffet in the state too. It’s crowded and I dread the long lines, but as I’ve learned, it’s not necessarily triggering. I’ve come a LONG way in that regard.
For example, today I was in Safeway getting the last of the things I needed for tomorrow, and the place was packed. The lines stretched all the way into the aisles, and worse, the guy ahead of me had problems paying for his groceries. He had $200 worth of steaks in his basket and one tray of them hadn’t been stickered properly by the butcher. It was an involved process and the poor cashier ended up sending the man to customer service so he could wait on the growing line behind him. I was next, and the cashier apologized profusely for the delay; but as flustered as I used to get by circumstances like these, I was cool as a cucumber as I reassured him that I wasn’t a bit upset. I was waiting in line just like everyone else, I didn’t have anyplace I needed to go right away, and, well, it’s Christmas—peace on earth, right?
By the way, I saw Dr. Goodenough last week, and had only good things to report. It’s really gotten through my head that I no longer want to reduce my medications, either in number or in strength, and I told him so. He was pleased, as he’s not inclined to do anything about it anyway because I am doing so well. I have my moments in the mornings when I’m lying in my recliner debating getting up because nothing hurts, but it’s not depression, it’s achy joints and tight muscles. My back is all screwed up because I wore that walking boot for three months, which threw off my gait, and now my “good” knee hurts as much as the other one. But the fact that I’ve got these aches and pains just proves I’m alive to see in another year, and that’s a privilege denied to many.
So now I want to wish my readers a very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, or whatever you celebrate. Thank you for seeing me through another year, and please come back to visit often.