The ghost of Christmas past...

This Christmas was rough...I am ready to move on, to move past, and move forward.  One of the biggest quandaries I have been trying to resolve this year is the overwhelming thoughtlessness of people.   Apparently, the wonderful example that my mother has set for us in regards to being generous, thoughtful, considerate of others exists in a vacuum.  I should not expect the same from other people and from this point forward, I won't.  I'll just be pleasantly surprised if I stumble across someone who displays one of those qualities.

I have spent a lot of time this past week reflecting on better times, those Christmases filled with the innocence of pure joy.  As a child, we spent Christmas in Arkansas.  Both sets of grandparents were there and a host of aunts, uncles, cousins.  The days leading up to the trip were filled with wonderful aromas from Mom's kitchen and the unwrapping of gifts since we couldn't take them all with us.  I'll never know how Mom managed to get some really cool "Santa" gifts packed in the car without us knowing.

Christmas in Arkansas meant going to the little white church right next to my mom's parents house.  My grandfather donated the land and helped build the church.  We always left the Christmas service with a brown sack filled with fruit, nuts, small candy cane, ribbon candy and maybe a few other treats.  I am not sure that I ever appreciate the fruit, I know that Juju didn't but it was still a wonderful tradition.  I miss it.

Christmas Eve was always spent at my dad's parents.  My grandpa would have gone out in the pasture and cut down a tree.  They would wait on us to arrive to decorate it. We used the individual silver icicles and those ginormous outdoor sized multi-colored bulbs. I can picture it sitting in the front room waiting for us as if it were yesterday.  Grandma always had treats for us.  It is her recipe that Juju and I use for our peanut butter balls.  There is a family legend that Juju and a cousin sat at the table and ate a whole bowlful.  Grandma got mad. And after making them for the first time on her own, Juju realized why.  Those things just don't make themselves.  It is work.  A lot of work.  What I would give to make a batch and take to her as a treat.

This was the first year that my Christmas wasn't filled with joy and was pretty much overshadowed by "junk" for lack of a better word.  I can only hope that the lessons we have learned as a family stay with us and help us to avoid a repeat. I know that Boy never wants to have another Christmas like this.  But more importantly, I hope that he, as well as myself, have learned that actions have consequences.   We can't live in the Christmases of the past... as wonderful as they were.  We all have choices.  Make good ones.

PS: I do want to give a shout out to a few bright spots this season: My FF and her family were wonderful hosts in the Falls.  I truly enjoyed my time there and getting to attend their Christmas program.  It was uplifting and an escape.  Also, my BF rescued me on Christmas Eve's eve.  We went into town for a few errands and just let me be me.  Sad, pathetic me. No judgment.  So while I judged early in this blog that  there are not any  considerate people left in the world, I was blessed with two angels. And I am grateful.