Wassailing

I heard the winterthru the evening
I saw the winterthru the trees
Knee deep in silence
Immune to the world around me

Winterthru a crack in the door
Winterthru the bones of the poor
November's wind, December's wind
Are getting warmer now...

                          -Echolyn, "Winterthru"
For a while there all I wanted was this break from work. Worn down, burned out, pulled in all directions like leaves on a water's surface. I just needed time away, time to myself, time to try and recharge, regroup, and recover.

But somehow in the midst of all of that wanting I missed the thoughts of what was coming. I mean, this is a different kind of Christmas for all of us, it's not like I didn't know that. It's just that I don't think I fully realized what that was going to mean. How it would suddenly weigh all around me like the way a rainy day sits in the air just before the water begins to fall.
..and then I went Christmas shopping.
It's strange that this should be the trigger. That this should be the floodgate. This thing that used to be such an inequity. This issue that too many times became more of an argument than anything else...

Christmas is a big thing for me. When I'm able (and even sometimes when I'm not) I really get into going overboard and spoiling the people I care about. I take a great amount of pride in being able to lock little things into my memory -- those times you're wandering through a store and someone says "I've always wanted one of these!"

There's more to this season than just gifts, of course -- but to me there is definitley something special about giving people things they like. Things they can treasure. Things that mean something to just the two of you.

For me there's nothing better than the moment, that "How did you find this?" feeling. That smile in the eyes that reduced me to nothing even as it made me feel a million feet tall. It's part of how I express myself, I guess. I don't like gift certificates. I don't like re-gifting. I like significance. I like resonation. The kind of thing that you can't get in just any gift.
I don't know if you ever really understood that about me.
Somewhere in the aisles today it began to fall on me. Like snowflakes or rainfall. Gradual at first -- only to become drenching, inescapable. I won't be able to do that this year. I won't get to do that ever again.
..Not like that.
[Listening to: Miles Davis, "All Blues"]

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