I’m not even close to getting used to it getting dark so early. I don’t like it one little bit.
And don’t even get me started on the cold. I know it’s not cold like Nebraska or Vermont or Oslo. But it’s too darn cold for me. Thoughts of hot chocolate with a peppermint stick stirrer and a fire in the fireplace (our first this year?) dance through my head. Flannel pajamas are not out of the question, either.
But there is something very quiet and peaceful about a dark, cold night. The boys are off doing what they do. Andrew is making dinner. And I’m on the chaise under a quilt just typing away. And I’m thinking about a few conversations I’ve had lately and about a few things I’d forgotten over the years.
May 26, 1977 was my first Dead show – at the Baltimore Civic Center. When Andrew and I went back there last week for Further, it brought back memories and reminded me who I was, who I am, and how I haven’t changed all that much.
My family and I had dinner last night with an old friend (and his lovely wife!) and an even older friend (and his teenage daughter). The old friend reminded me recently that I was one of the first kids at our high school that welcomed him. The even older friend and I realized that it was elementary school when we first became friends. He lived in my neighborhood and a whole bunch of us would hang out after school and on the weekends. I hadn’t seen him in 30 years or more. Wow, a lot has happened in that time. There’s something really nice about that familiarity, I have to admit. I hope my guys have long lasting relationships. I know I’ve really appreciated that I do.
When we lived in Nebraska, I reconnected with a high school friend who lived on a ranch in the Sand Hills. She told me that I bought her a ‘you are my friend’ button as a fundraiser during the canned food drive in 10th or 11th grade and that it meant a lot to her. I don’t recall, but I’m glad that I did it. I hope my guys do things now that make an impact in someone else’s life. Especially if it’s effortless and just being nice.
An old friend of mine is a professional musician, playing with some big name artists. He’s made quite a name for himself, too. He told me last time I saw him that it was me who played him some music that inspired him and actually led him down the path he ended up taking. I hope my guys share the things they love and that inspire them with friends. Who knows what the effect can be. Even if there is none, it’s great to share something of yourself, right?
I remember how much I loved hearing the stories of my mother’s jewelry and trinkets when I was young. When two of my nieces were here for Thanksgiving, I showed them some things I’ve saved from that my mother gave me and that I’ve collected and saved over the years. And I gave them each something – one was a ring that was my mother’s and one was a necklace that I thought was really sweet. While I know they each love what they took home, they couldn’t know how happy it made me to pass the items and their stories on.
So I know I’m all over the place today. I find the holidays allow me to think, to dream, to relax. And evidently, it also allows me to ramble…