We had Christmas Eve at our house today.
We ate lasagna and drank wine. The kids fought and whined and cried and laughed. We let the kids open a present each. They loved it.
And then we ate camembert and summer sausage for dinner, and drank more. We ate cookies and laughed over the letter Tiller wrote to Santa.
I watch it every Christmas Eve. Something new is revealed every year – This year it was when Clarence died. After Tom Sawyer was published, but before Huck Finn. And this year, it rings just a little more true. Perhaps it is my age, but i think it more likely that it is the past year, which has taught me how fragile life has been, and that we all have, at most, a tenuous grasp of life on this earth, and it doesn’t matter whether we are plant or animal, young or old. We are at the mercy of things completely out of our control. To pretend otherwise is ridiculous. As is the very real desire to worry ourselves sick at the thought.
I cannot stop time and make my dog forever young. I can’t stop someone from murdering my loved one. I cannot stop a car wreck from taking a child away in mere seconds, or keep his parents for suffering as he lingers for weeks, holding on to life by a thread, against all hope.
It is all completely and totally out of my control, and all i can do is try to enjoy the now, because while we have it, it’s a Wonderful Life.
Merry Christmas, y’all!