Christmas Letters and Salutations

Sage says: 

I once sent Christmas letters.  You know, the ‘all in one page, smiles and progress, look at us - we got through the year’ letters.  The highlights, because no one wants to see the lowlights...and especially not the times when the dang light goes out completely and you are barely hanging on.  I sound a tad Scroogie,, but I do always enjoy  the letters we get – fun  reviews from loved ones.  I’m just not sure mine ever get across what I’m hoping for. 

Most of the people I know, know what my letter entails before I send it.  If they haven’t blocked me on Facebook, they know even more of the grimy details.  I am pretty happy to keep you up to date on each part of our life as it happens.  I leap at opportunities to tell of my crashes and near misses.  I love sharing the stories of the funny crap my kids come up with.  Sometimes, I get onion-like, and peel a layer back, hoping to get somewhere that isn’t stinky and tear-causing.  Mostly, I like to say I am an open book and I will share what there is to tell.  If I think it will help someone, I jump at it.  Sometimes, I share just to remind myself how lucky I really am. 

So when it comes time for the Christmas letter:

I try to be witty.

Something fun.

Something to say, hey man, not only are we surviving – but thriving. 

I haven’t done one in a few years.  Not that we aren’t witty.  Funny.  Surviving and thriving.  But the last few years it has been more of a “holy cow, I have t-78 hours left.  Where did the year go?  I still have to pull off some Christmas magic  for some little people – the rest of you are on your own! 

In fact, last year, I bought Christmas cards and didn’t even send them.  The penny-pinching cheapskate in me really has issues with that. 

This year has been a tough one in a lot of ways.  Though I’ve been thinking about writing a letter this year, I’ll admit it, the thought that followed that was something along the lines of, “wine.  Do I have enough wine to write a Christmas letter?”

Squirrel (which is to say; here, let me interrupt myself just like a kid talking, and then stopping because they saw, you know, a squirrel.)  Where was I?  Oh.  Wine.  Yeah, I don’t really drink much wine, but it is a comforting illusion I give myself when walking through sandy pits of hell.  You could assume, and do so correctly, that my Christmas spirit is pretty frazzled this year. 

If I wrote a true review - my Christmas letter would really go like this, “Barbara passed away in the spring this year.  Even though its only been a few months it has this weird way of feeling like both yesterday and a long, long time ago.  Its as though time stopped with her.  I miss things I didn’t think about much when she was here.  Like the way she looked at me sometimes and her look told me, “I love you, I worry for you, I believe in you.”  All in one look.  Mommas just do that I suppose.  I miss her enchiladas and all our food talks.  I miss her laugh, and it is agonizing to me that it isn’t on speed dial in my memory.  I feel as though I am being a poor daughter-in-law by letting little parts of her slip away.  I look at the pictures I have of her and I think, ‘she must have been sick for much longer than she told us.’  Every picture I have she was laughing, but underneath that, I see now that maybe she was struggling and fighting much more than we knew.  We know so many who have lost loved ones this year.  It’s supposed to be comforting knowing they are at peace, but frankly, I miss them – or I miss their loved ones before they had the hollow look of loss in their faces.  We will all get through – but the empty chair or the phone call that doesn’t come – those are a part of the year that I am acutely aware of in this Christmas season. 

In the next paragraph I could talk about work.  Ranching is hard.  It mostly pays the bills but sometimes the bills are huge.  I have romanticized this industry my whole life.  I love cows.  No, really.  I love getting my hands dirty and the smell of my old saddle.  The way the heifers come in to see me and jump and kick and trot off.  The stress of shipping, and the relief of getting the day done.  A lot of it scares the crapola out of me.  But I love it.  But how do we make it work?  Especially when we didn’t inherit the land and the wisdom tied to that land?  I haven’t figured that one out, and frankly, the reality is closer than ever that I may need to go to town and get a town job.  That bites.  But no one really wants to know times are hard – we all face them.  Its part of the human process.  So, I better just grit my teeth and tell a funny.  At least I do have a lot of fun stories about these cows and some of the pickles I get myself into. 

I have to do a paragraph about the kids, right?  Because we all want to read about how awesome everyone else’s kids are when really, we are just thankful that ours haven’t thrown poo at anyone in a while.

Squirrel:  My imaginary wine would be kicking in by now, right?  So I could get away with witty comments about how close we are to Santa not coming this year…when in reality, I did just use that as a threat.  By the way, I have a bone to pick with all these parenting experts.  (in my most nasally, obnoxious font)  “be consistent with children, that is what they crave!” 

Horse pucky. 

Try being consistent with mine.  They figure it all out and you better have something new in the pipeline, or they will be all over you like stink on a dog that rolled in last weeks dead calf.  Consistent, Ha.  They know that line.  They ate it for dinner.  You better go for shock value and it better be good.  Sure, consistently love them.  Consistently challenge them.  And, do discipline them, in any way you can think of to get their attention and make them think about consequences.  That’s the hard part to be consistent on. 

They are good kids, don’t get me wrong.  But they are our kids, which is to say, they have a healthy dose of independence.  They are going to question everything.  But on occasion, I see them treat someone kindly, and I know they are on the right track, especially when they think no one is watching.  Sometimes, they pick up after themselves.  It leaves me hope.  They will try anything, so I know they are brave.  Report cards this year have been diversified, so I know they aren’t afraid to ‘just say no’.  They do say ‘Yes sir’ most of the time.  They have big imaginations and they eat really, really well.  They are their own souls, and deep ones.  I worry that one will follow.  I worry that one will lead.  I worry that the other won’t do either.  Mostly I just hope I am not screwing them up too much!  Its funny how I try hardest to teach them the things I am not good at.  It ain’t easy, is it, my fellow parentals? 

And when I summarize, I will say it has been an emotional year.  Lots of really great moments.  Good memories.  Laughter, love and a lot of food.  But we’ve lost some wonderful family and friends this year.  The loss of those smiles is achey, but I also am so deeply grateful to have had love for them that it makes the loss worthwhile. 

We are able to put what we need on the table, and we have a roof over our heads, and that isn’t going to change.  When I remember to take a deep breath, I feel ever so grateful.  It’s a really good time to contemplate and celebrate whatever it is that makes you thankful this season.  Our pastor said something about Christmas and the coming of the light, and I loved the way that it gathered all my Christmassy feelings in one phrase.   I sure am thankful for the light in my life. 

So, as you plan out your Christmas letter, or whatever it is you do – know I look forward to whatever it is.  Even if it’s just knowing that you thought of me this year, or you managed to go all out with custom tags on handmade, individualized containers or envelopes of love filled whatnots and your life on a page for me to review.  Whatever it is, and whatever we send – or don’t send – I think the trick is to not get terribly worried and remember the light and the reasons for your season. 

Squirrel:  Maybe I can send our blog out to everyone for Christmas…that’d work, wouldn’t it?!  Blessings to each of you, Merry Christmas and may the light fill your heart.

Shayla says:

I’ll be honest. I don’t know remember if I’ve ever even done a Christmas letter and can’t recall the last time I sent out Christmas cards.

When you mix 1 part lazy with 1 part procrastinator and throw in a splash of social media, you don’t get Sage’s wine, you get Shayla’s cocktail of “oh well” with a shoulder shrug.

ADD sidebar: One time I had a friend who meant to get Christmas cards out but didn’t get around to it. Instead, her mailing list received a “Happy President’s Day” card in February. I thought it was ingenious and vowed to do it myself one year but still have never gotten around to it. Oh well (shrugging shoulders).

The truth is, I’m not a big Christmas fanatic in the first place which is a bit odd because I love giving gifts to people. It’s not like Scrooge and the Grinch had a baby and she grew up to be me, it’s just that I feel like there’s an awful lot of pressure and “have to’s” and maneuvering through the etiquette and expectations makes me feel like I’m wandering through a mine field blindfolded.

Come on. Admit it. We’ve all experienced hurting someone’s feelings because we didn’t choose their place for dinner or giving a gift that didn’t quite land with the recipient. We’ve all had that awkward moment where someone who flew under your gift giving radar randomly gives you a present and leaves you feeling like the lesser person.

Christmas cards are just one extra thing you have to get “just right.”

You don’t want to be too honest because anything that bummed you out is taken as being “ungrateful” for the joys in life.

You don’t want to be too joyful because it will be seen as “boasting.”

I know it’s going to be a tough one for Sage and fam as they make do for their first Christmas without Aunt Barbara.

ADD sidebar: She really did make the best enchiladas.

Our Aunt Thelma died many years ago and I still miss her something awful at Christmastime especially. We had a tradition of spending an entire day making cookies and eating Mexican food. And one of the best things about Aunt Thelma was she didn’t even make you wait for the cookies to be baked.

ADD sidebar: You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten raw gingerbread cookies. Seize the dough my friends!

If I were going to write a Christmas letter this year, it would probably say something like, “We’ve been through a lot of shit this year and we’re still here bitches! Bring on 2016!”

Yes that would be my letter in its entirety.

Amy Poehler would narrate.

So maybe it’s better that I just stick with blog writing for the rest of the year instead of Christmas letters.

So…Merry Christmas to you and yours. May the joy of your memories of enchiladas and cookie doughs past overtake any sadness you may feel over the absence of a loved one in the present. May your heart be more full than your Christmas tree.

And don’t worry. I will catch everyone up on our lives for President’s Day. But if I don’t get around it until July 4^th…oh well (shrugging shoulders.)