It's all such a nuisance, it's all so messy and so much trouble.
It used to be fun. Anticipation was the word for it. I used to count days....each one lasted forever.
I shopped for gifts, made lists, planned menus, baked, sent cards with little notes to recipients.
I trimmed trees, made wreathes, perfectly placed lights and ornaments. Lit candles. Listened to carols, wished they'd never end.
Got married, two days after, many years ago.
Grew up
Forgot the meaning was more important than the mess
Until just now. I looked out the window. The sky is black now but the moon, it is white, bright and full, just the way it is supposed to be at this time of year.
It's all about that brightness in the darkness and it's all about joy that is so much bigger than Santa.
And it's all okay, it's normal to act like an adult now.
Tree's up. We vacuumed and it's not messy any more.
I'll stop being that person and start again being me, the one who got married two days after Christmas and is still in love with that same person. The man who wants the tree in the living room, he who makes the moon shine so much brighter because he knew I needed to walk arm in arm through the supermarket this afternoon.
No comments:
Post a Comment