Counting the Blessings; Rolling With the Rest

 

A scroll-down representation

Today's beauty shot is the most recent one on my camera roll, and it makes me laugh ruefully. In some ways it's a scroll-down representation of the Christmas goings-on in the House on the Corner. 

As you look at it, hold your hand up to your eyes so that your fingers only reveal the serene, well-ordered reading nook that is one of my favorite parts of our newly-remodeled kitchen (the process of which I completely neglected to blog, but the results of which I love soooooo much). The nook is the ideal place to snuggle up with an afghan and a book, and to glance up often at the pictures of loved ones I've packed onto the south wall. 

Now move your hand up so that the mission chair and reading lamp are covered and all you see are bags and bags of trash, half-filled cartons of pop, a deflated air mattress, and a roaster still greasy with the remains of our holiday ham dinner. 

That was Christmas around these parts. It was a combination of perfection and wow-that-stinks. Here's where I must once more tell you young moms to hang in there. A quarter century ago I would have let the wow-that-stinks parts completely erase the good moments. It was PERFECTION OR BUST! for me, and I'm here to tell you that Christmas perfection is a myth. 

So I'll tell you the wow-that-stinks parts before anything else, because these were not inconsequential. 

When the Boys began establishing homes of their own we began sharing holidays with the families that were now theirs by marriage. Every other non-pandemic year the Boys and families are here for Christmas; every other year they're here for Thanksgiving. This was our Thanksgiving year so Husband and I spent Dec. 25 by ourselves, watching movies and eating Chinese food. The festivities would really begin Dec. 27, when the ENTIRE CLAN would begin to pile in! I restrained myself from adding an additional dozen exclamation points to that last sentence, but just know that the last time we all were gathered in the old crappy kitchen it was to announce that Baby Wonderful #2 was on his way. Baby Wonderful #2 now is within spittin' distance of turning two years old, so you can do the math. And if it wasn't exciting enough to have all the Boys home, we would also have four girls, not even counting me, for the very first time ever! 

It was so much wonderful I couldn't bear it. 

If you look back to the middle of that last paragraph, though, you will begin to see a tiny little dark cloud developing on the horizon. Are you noticing that before they were to come to their mama and daddy's house, our kids were spend time with the extended clans of their families-in-law? Unfortunately, two of those tiny little dark clouds blossomed into the cumulonimbus variety.

Boy#1, Lovely Girl #1, and Baby Wonderful #1, spent Christmas Day sitting next to a relative with a cough, and sure enough, that relative spent Boxing Day morning swabbing her nose and watching two lines appear on the rapid Covid test. Boy#2 and his Dear One spent Christmas Day with a relative who had tested positive for flu, and sure enough, soon Two was coughing up a lung and shivering with chills. There was no possibility those in Covid quarantine would be able to attend, and the flu guy would need quick bounce-back.

It was beyond disappointing. This was going to be the first time Baby Wonderful cousins were to meet, and they're now old enough to interact. It was going to be a return to normalcy, a reward for the years we've endured missed holidays and postponed celebrations. 

But while I don't want to minimize the wow-that-stinks, and I do not at all minimize the hurt that scuttled holiday plans caused this year, for me (and I am only speaking for myself) age and the pandemic have softened my need for perfection. Half a loaf is better than none, after so many years of no loaf at all. In our case we got three-quarters of a loaf: The flu guy did bounce, and was here with his Dear One for the end of the week. The Covid-exposed sidestepped the infection at home.

There were many, many moments during the past week when I found my eyes unexpectedly filling with tears of gratitude. Sitting in the New Year's Day church service in a a pew completely filled with my family. "Playing" the piano with a toddler who giggled and imitated me. Opening gifts that were so heartfelt and thoughtful. Being with grown-up children, who have chosen to love each other. 

We talked and talked and laughed and laughed, and when we waved goodbye through the fog Tuesday morning we knew again how blessed we were, even though there hadn't been a moment when the underlying "If only..." wasn't being felt.

Tomorrow, if I don't get too lazy, I'll talk about the top half of the picture. That's the one that went mostly to plan, and was everything I had hoped it would be. 

Well, except for the holiday dinner rolls, which I made using yeast which I apparently bought before the pandemic. They did not rise at. all. and wow, that stunk. But everything else? 

Perfection.