Last Thursday morning started as if it was being led by a director and his crew of producers. Bright white snowflakes fell from the sky in perfect syncopation leaving a duvet of feathers on our lawn.
Ava clapped her hands with glee over the snow, “Christmas is coming. Christmas is coming,” and then squealed when the Macy Day parade started it’s march down 42nd Street.
We placed her table and chair in front of the monitor Nate calls a t.v., and she ate her porridge as Mary Poppins swept good cheer all over Rockefeller square. Two minutes later, she cried, “Daddy, oh no it’s gone. The parade’s gone!”
“No, Ava that’s just a commercial. It will come back.”
“What’s a commercial?”
Please don’t mock. It’s true and sad and good all rolled together. Ava is what we called television-delayed.
No worries, Grandma Penny is a Special Ed teacher and ready for this new challenge. I’m fairly certain that Ava’s stocking will be packed full of Looney Tunes, Mickey Moose, and Sesame Street this year.
Meanwhile, I tied on my apron strings and headed to the kitchen to make the pies that I was going to make on Monday, then Tuesday, then Wednesday, well you get the picture.
As Snoopy came bumbling through the sky, I tried to salvage the pie dough that I had made the night before. It had mysteriously morphed into a lump of clay, impenetrable and definitely unrollable–but apparently delectable to both Ava and her daddy. Every commercial break she would dart in the kitchen for a “sample.”
After I shed more tears than anyone should over pie dough, I pulled down my flour Bannister and started again. An hour later, I had a soft malleable pie dough.
“It’s like play dough,” Ava declared. Nate says she has a gift for stating the obvious. I’m not sure it’s gift, but it tends to be rather obvious.
Together, we rolled, cut, and crimped two pie crusts. As soon as they were filled pecan and pumpkin goodness, we waved goodbye to Santa and his sleigh and set off for Grandma’s house. We arrived promptly two hours late so as not to disappoint Grandpa Lyle.
Eating at Grandma Penny’s is always a treat. Besides the extra juicy turkey, we had her amazing dressing, mashed potatoes, the gravy made by committee, The Pioneers Woman’s sweet potatoes (they are so good, they will make you cry and then croak from the amount of butter), steamed green beans with toasted almonds, candied baby carrots, and Ava’s cranberry sauce (which everyone loved except Ava. She thought it was going to be more like jello).
Of course, I don’t have a single picture of any of the food or of us eating it. I was too busy sampling everything before it went on the table and then actually eating it when it did. And then I was too full to do anything stare up at the ceiling fan and wonder if I would ever be able to button my pants again.
You’ll be relieved to know that I did, but only because we left the left-overs at Grandma Penny’s. Yes, even the tasty dressing and delicious-but-deadly sweet potatoes.
We did manage to take a slew of really bad family pictures. And by bad, I mean blurry, shaky, black, and just generally terrible. This is was the only salvageable one.
Ava’s singing, her version of smiling, Nate’s laughing because that’s what he does, and apparently I think I modeling for a shampoo commercial. It’s a keeper.
Now the title of this post is “giving thanks” and that is where I’m headed believe it or not.
If you know me or at all familiar with this blog, you know that 2007 has been a hard year for us. It started while we were grieving the loss of a unborn baby, and then two more children slipped from our hands before we had a chance to get acquainted. It has been a year of longing and waiting and disappointment and more waiting and more longing.
I really thought our Christmas picture would be a little more filled out this year. And yet, I am compelled to trust that “No good gift does God withhold from those who love him.”
The other night, I was sitting in my living room, reliving our New Mexico adventures with my cousin Heather over the phone, and the new screensaver on our monitor-t.v. (personally, in my opinion if it has a screensaver and has a cord attaching it to a desktop then it’s a monitor) came on. It’s a slideshow that transitions randomly between all the pictures on our computer and is set to music from our computer.
As I watched the various pictures from the past four years fade in and out of our screen, I was overwhelmed with what a wonderful life I have been given. Pictures of happy friends, sweet baby Ava, parties, adventures, hot dates, and beloved family played out like memory roulette. It was mesmerizing.
And over the music, I heard, “See, I am with you. I love you. Here, see all these good gifts. They are good. They are very good.”
Indeed, they are very good.
This November, I bow my head and thank the Lord for all of this:
For my dear friends, who color my life in so many shades of love and laughter;
For adventures near and far that fill my memories with a wallpaper of postcards;
For a family who holds me tight and with whom I’m intrinsically and forever knit to;
For my darling girl who has grown so much and fills so much of my heart with joy;
For my sweet love who remembers to make me feel special and beautiful;
For digital pictures and pretend t.v.’s that help me remember what I tend to forget;
And for the one, true director-producer who writes the story of my life. And it is good.
