The Best of Things
Lee Murray
For as long as many of us can remember, Christmas was the special holiday when as kids, barely able to sleep the night before, anticipation almost unbearable, we waited to see what things Santa left for us when we awakened in the early morning.
To young children, Santa is a mystical person who somehow is able to visit all the little boys and girls throughout the world while they, asleep in their beds, magically dropped down all the chimneys with a bag full of goodies in the blink of an eye.
As we grow older and belief in Santa Claus goes the way of the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy, things for Christmas are still every bit as important though you begin to realize those things don’t just mysteriously materialize. They are brought to you by the people in your lives and you start to gain a different perspective.
Once you get married and have children of your own, you begin to see how your parents must have felt, as you now are the ones who stay up half the night wrapping presents or assembling Johnny’s new bicycle or Susie’s new dollhouse and you have more appreciation for your own mother and father.
As life goes on and you get older, and you have accumulated many things on your own, you begin to realize that no matter how many things you have, those aren’t the source of lasting happiness.
Sure, it’s great to drive a new car, buy a new set of golf clubs or a new furniture set or go on a nice vacation but all of that is secondary to the people in your life on whose importance you cannot put a price.
What price can you put on a loving husband or wife who supports you and stands by you no matter what? Who is instrumental in helping you fulfill your life’s hopes and dreams.
Any parent will say their kids are life’s greatest gift. From the time your son or daughter is born, you begin to realize nothing comes close to witnessing the miracle of a child’s birth. How rewarding it is watching them grow into adulthood and seeing them become fine people and parents themselves.
Or the pure happiness of spending time with close friends and family and the warmth of sharing great moments together. Going to a ball game with your dad, taking your mom out for a show she really wants to see, lunch with a sister at her favorite restaurant, hanging out with a brother laughing about nothing, just being guys on a Saturday afternoon. Phone calls from friends who want to be part of your life as you do with theirs. People who make your life better just because they’re in it.
The things that make life worth living aren’t really things at all.
As one’s time on this earth comes to a close, he or she can reflect not about whatever things they may have, but the people who have enriched their lives and brought them happiness no number of things could ever replace.
Frugal
Ernest D’Godor
Frugal means the holiday season is over and it is time to eat pork and beans for a couple of weeks. Ah, but the memories we made will be the relish to help us down that common fare. It was all worth it. The look of surprise on our young’un’s face when he opened up the really-too-expensive-but-he-really-wants-it present. It was just too precious. We soon forgot the surprise we had when we saw him playing with the box a half hour later, the really-too-expensive-but-he-really-wants-it toy already forgotten in the corner.
And the meal that cost an arm and a leg, but it was so delicious. We had all the pictures of it shared by all the members who joined us. It is no longer the case that people say grace before the meal. Now it is, everyone takes a picture before the meal.
But the conversation was lively for those two hours. Not like the ordinary meals we share with everyday family members who eat and watch TV at the same time. This was two hours or more of nonstop conversation. Whoever is not talking is eating or drinking. If the table is big enough there are two conversations going on at the same time. Anyone sitting in the middle has the opportunity to follow the conversation of their choice.
The holiday season brings a lot of adult hatchlings back to the nest. I can usually get by without having to do any housework. But during the holidays it seems that my adult children have forgotten how to use the vacuum or the washing machine. They don’t have any trouble with the refrigerator or the remote control. My usual chair becomes the home to my younger son. And I get outvoted about what to watch on TV.
In short, everything gets turned upside down. By the time they leave, though, I am so used to their energy and commotion that the house seems eerily silent, as if waiting for a ghost to come clanking their chains.
I will get caught sneaking peeks at the photos on my phone and chuckling, remembering the best holiday so far and looking forward to the next time they all come around.
Sookie
Ellen Brittingham
My daughter who lives next door had to have her cat euthanized last year. Sookie was already named when the Costers adopted her as their own about eight years ago. My son-in-law had real estate clients who were looking for a house in Portland. The two ladies had recently moved from Bangkok with their cat but needed to find a home for her because they had business in Europe somewhere and couldn’t take her. Sean had recently lost his beloved dog and thought his family needed a cat so he took her home. The ladies said they had found the cat on the streets of Bangkok and took her as their own.
Sookie was a small, all-black cat who looked small enough to still be a kitten but her personality was anything but kittenish. She allowed a person to pet her only if she decided to try out one’s lap for a short time. She did allow young Ernie to carry her up to his bedroom sometimes but rarely stayed to spend the night.
She liked to go outside and sometimes stayed around to lie in the sun on the back deck, but more often she hopped up to run along the fence moving through neighbor yards. She seemed to have a purpose and did not dilly-dally but none of us knew where she went. She was too quick hopping up and over fences for any of us to follow her. She usually came in for the night but often stayed out all night or for maybe two or three. One hot night a couple of years ago I awoke to two cats yowling at each other very fiercely. I could see out the window that one of them was Sookie. I knew she had been spayed so it wasn’t that kind of yowling. I think a dog may have been in on the skirmish because I heard a dog cry out and retreat at one point. I remarked to my husband, “Guess you can take the girl out of Bangkok but you can’t take the Bangkok out of the girl.”
We all enjoyed the little time Sookie allowed us to pet her or sometimes jump into our laps but we also kind of marveled that such a little being was so spunky. She had sass. She was more like part of the scenery than she was a pet, but we all felt sad when the vet said her organs were failing and he guessed she was older than the 13 years my daughter had assumed was her age. It was hardest on Ernie but he knows it’s just a part of having pets.
My sister-in-law was sitting on our porch with me recently when she remarked, “Here comes another one. I have seen more cats in your yard lately than in all the months I have been here.” I agreed with her. “Maybe the word is out about Sookie.” We both quietly sang together, “Ding-dong the witch is dead.”