"Call Mary Brown!"
Today was the typical potluck christmas in dickson city, sans stephen and sigrira. we all sat around karen's living room listening to stories about old times. i wouldn't have christmas any other way.
i envisioned myself much younger, just barely able to see over the tops of the tables at my grandparents' house, the fold-up ones that held all the poinsettias for the season. my grandparents were florists, you know, and every christmas their house was bursting with poinsettias waiting to be shipped out. it was the same scenario at easter time, only with lilies. lilies smell much nicer.
my grandfather was always such a ham. he was the prime example of what happened if you were bad and santa put you on the naughty list. his stocking was always filled with coal. i later learned that it was licorice hard candy.
i really miss my grandfather. sometimes when i leave my grandmother's house on snowy nights, i still can see him down on the corner under the street light, his hands in his pockets, one holding a leash attached to his little schnauzer companion jake, wearing the typical old man's golfer hat on to keep his head warm and the jacket from his job at the times newspaper from almost 40 years ago. my grandmother still hasn't gotten over him. she never will. she lost most of her will to live after he died. i really don't know what it's like to be in love with someone that much. i both envy and pity her.
a rainy christmas doesn't feel like christmas. well i guess christmas just doesn't feel like christmas at this point in my life. my catholic upbringing has almost completely worn away, and no santa anymore is a real bummer. but having family and friends around is always something to be thankful for.
Cold are the people, Winter of life,
We tremble in shadows this cold endless night,
Frozen in the snow lie roses sleeping,
Flowers that will echo the sunrise,
Fire of hope is our only warmth,
Weary, its flame will be dying soon.
Voice in the distance, call in the night,
On wind you enfold us, you speak of the light,
Gentle on the ear you whisper softly,
Rumors of a dawn so embracing,
Breathless love awaits darkened souls,
Soon will we know of the morning.
i envisioned myself much younger, just barely able to see over the tops of the tables at my grandparents' house, the fold-up ones that held all the poinsettias for the season. my grandparents were florists, you know, and every christmas their house was bursting with poinsettias waiting to be shipped out. it was the same scenario at easter time, only with lilies. lilies smell much nicer.
my grandfather was always such a ham. he was the prime example of what happened if you were bad and santa put you on the naughty list. his stocking was always filled with coal. i later learned that it was licorice hard candy.
i really miss my grandfather. sometimes when i leave my grandmother's house on snowy nights, i still can see him down on the corner under the street light, his hands in his pockets, one holding a leash attached to his little schnauzer companion jake, wearing the typical old man's golfer hat on to keep his head warm and the jacket from his job at the times newspaper from almost 40 years ago. my grandmother still hasn't gotten over him. she never will. she lost most of her will to live after he died. i really don't know what it's like to be in love with someone that much. i both envy and pity her.
a rainy christmas doesn't feel like christmas. well i guess christmas just doesn't feel like christmas at this point in my life. my catholic upbringing has almost completely worn away, and no santa anymore is a real bummer. but having family and friends around is always something to be thankful for.
Cold are the people, Winter of life,
We tremble in shadows this cold endless night,
Frozen in the snow lie roses sleeping,
Flowers that will echo the sunrise,
Fire of hope is our only warmth,
Weary, its flame will be dying soon.
Voice in the distance, call in the night,
On wind you enfold us, you speak of the light,
Gentle on the ear you whisper softly,
Rumors of a dawn so embracing,
Breathless love awaits darkened souls,
Soon will we know of the morning.