Friday, December 18, 2009

snow before christmas

december 18 2009



It's terribly cold and maybe we'll even have the coldest night of the season.
There's lots of snow outside and tomorrow we'll get even more.
I love it!
It's so beautiful!

Today I suddenly realized we're very close to christmas.
Ofcourse I knew, but there's so much to do here every day that I often don't even think about the next day, let alone more days ahead.

Especially now the girls are at home too, and their father didn't go to work, it was a day without a single moment for myself, until now.
And my eyes are almost dropping closed.

Yes, I know, it's a french tag.
But it's beautiful and at christmas we're always able to understand other people, don't we. Or at least we should try.

I always feel I can't live up to the expectations of others and certainly not to those of myself.
This year I have to rely on the tradition between friends: writing our christmascards between christmas and new year, unless I'll find time to get the cards from the attic tomorrow.

I used to feel bothered because family wouldn't receive their cards in time, but now I'm getting older I know it's only about what they want.
They never bother during the year to give a signal of kindness or lift a finger to help. No birthday cards, nothing at all.
So it was rather strange I felt the inner need to be the best girl in town and write a christmascard in time.
Maybe I wanted a family a bit too much.

The few friends I have left, because my autistic son kept me tied to the house, are as busy as I am.
Christmas itself brings us to a halt, and then we write an account about the year and send it to all.
During the years we've written the books of our families.

So each year I'll prepare for christmas just my own way.
My simple way.

Looking for beauty in graphics, in nature.
Trying to guide my children through this time where other families come together to celebrate the light of christmas.

I remember those days from when my gram and dad were alive, and the memories warm my heart.
Like them I'll try to make my home a beaken in the cold, a warm place for those who want to be part of it.

But my heart always aches, because those we've lost in time should have been here.
Just smiling and laughing and being how they were.
There are always empty places at the table.
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