As I pulled out of the driveway from my daughter’s house, close to midnight on Christmas Eve–to spend the very first night at my very own little house, of course I was excited. Then, I looked back up at the big picture window and I could see them, Lyndi and her husband moving around in the front room to get everything ready for Santa Claus’ visit. I got the strangest clutch in my chest. My first thought was, “What am I doing?! Family and love and Christmas and happiness is happening right there, right now and I’m driving away from it–to be almost alone!”
I’ve lived with my daughter and her family since before her children were born. Since both boys went on their missions. Since before Jillian got married. Since before Dane got married. Eight maybe nine Christmas’–I don’t know, I’ve lost count. It’s all we’ve known for a long, long time. Everything just the way that it was.
I kept driving out into the night with all the funny, scared, lonesome thoughts going through my head. By the time I was half way to my house it was snowing hard. After sliding a bit on a slow turn, I pulled over into a gas station parking lot…and started to cry. I was quite prepared to sit there for however long it took, to calm down and get a hold of myself.
Then my phone rang. It was one of my other daughters calling to wish me a Merry Christmas Eve and to just see if I was ok. I think some little angel must have nudged her to call at that very moment. She told me that she was proud of me and that some things would be hard and different, but that they would also be good and wonderful. She told me that my family was still the same and close by and mine. She said that the scary things that were changing would be great. Most importantly, she said, “Mom, everything is going to be all right.”
Insert big, heavy *sigh* right here.
Funny how those last few words have such an incredible ability to actually make everything all right.
I drove the rest of the way home singing, “Chestnuts roasting…” with Nat King Cole, and it was warm and soft and lovely.
New. Different. A little scary.
But all good.
Here we go.
Merry Christmas my friends.
Normally, I wouldn’t be going to the great, huge doTERRA Employee Christmas Party, but because my cute son works there, AND he isn’t embarrassed to hang out with his mom–I got to go!!
The food was incredible, and sincerely, I could have gotten about a boat load of the Spinach Artichoke Dip–hiding under the chips. It was wonderful and I swear, I’m going to learn how to make that stuff. Yummo.
The entertainment was a fabulous guy group called GenTri. Yeah, look them up. All the pictures I took of them were blurry because…well because I take lame pictures sometimes when I’m eating Spinach Artichoke Dip. Fact.
The owners gave away presents for about an hour and then they said, “Your dessert is under your seats.” White chocolate popcorn, a gourmet chocolate toffee cookie, and a lemon bar. Dang. Dang. Dang.
It’s been a lonnnnng time since I’ve been to a company Christmas party. It was perfect. And when we came back out to the car about 6 inches of snow had fallen. Magical.
Thanks Rhenny boy.
I love you.
Ahhh…bless you Pinterest, for sparking my imagination, when sincerely–I was happy with the brown paneling.
Ok, well, happy isn’t completely, one hundred percent honest.
I don’t mind admitting that I am just so thrilled to be in the place where I have some kind of house–at all–that it doesn’t really matter to me if it isn’t entirely perfect. I’m grateful and happy to make do.
But after spending a bit of time seeing the “Dark Paneling Makeovers” that are on the internet everywhere these days, I will admit–a few coats of white paint wins. Hands down.
It has taken a bit of doing though. Primer, more primer, and then several coats of paint. It will indeed be perfect when we’re finished.
And going from this…
to this–as unfinished as it is…
is a huge improvement. Wouldn’t you say?
I’m deeply grateful to my kind and generous worker bees who seem to have so much happy energy.
Thank you. Thank you.
It’s going to be awesome!
It’s been quite a while since Miss Chompy has come downstairs to my realm and said, “Grammy, let’s do our nails!” Which means of course that she already has the enormous bag of ancient polishes from when her mom was a teen. Some of the colors are old and sticky, but there are a surprising few that still work. The little girlie can never ever decide which color is her absolute favorite so most often–she will opt for the Color Fest–or one of all the good ones.
I hope she’ll ask me to paint her nails for another few decades yet. Hanging out with this little muffin never gets old, and with or without the polish she colors our world just right.
While I was looking at the real estate For Sale site the other day, Miss Chompy came in and asked what I was doing. I said, I’m looking for a house that I can live in someday.
Pointing to the home on the computer screen, she said, “That one’s nice. You should buy it.”
I said, “Yeah, but I have to save up a ton of money first. Even small houses cost a lot.”
She got all excited and ran out of the room calling back, “Don’t worry, Grammy. I’ll help you!”
The sweetheart came back with the penny jar and this sign.