Bah Humbug

This holiday season careened toward us too rapidly, making it impossible for me to comprehend it's here, yet, again. Perhaps it is the life altering changes we've made in our family, but I am five steps behind, it feels, in all the preparations for this season. The pressure is even more intense since I am juggling working, desperately attempting to stay on schedule, and taking care of my son--full time. My mind is on such overload it will only be a matter of time before I leave the house forgetting to brush my teeth, or worse, forgetting to pick my son up. This happened once before in grad school, not forgetting to pick up my son, but leaving the house without brushing my teeth. It was one of those 'uh-oh' moments when a vacation is seriously recommended.

In the midst of all this stress, a package arrived yesterday from one of my writer friends. I couldn't imagine what she would be sending me since we've never exchanged gifts of any kind. Our relationship's boundaries are firmly defined to the internet and the yearly retreat we all take together. After ripping open the thick envelope, I was stunned to discover an antique cook book, one of those regional books put together by church groups, that I love and collect. Her note said she'd found this in a second hand book store, and thought of me. It was one of those thoughtful gestures that will linger in my mind for months. And it is a gesture that is rare, and seems to become rarer in our world.

I'd always said your friends teach you how to be a friend to others. And one hopes in a lifetime you've had enough such teachers. I'm grateful for those that I can call my friend. Even during this short time here, I've made a friend, who will phone me from a dive shop, putting aside the remaining wet suits in the shop, insuring I get the right one for my son. Now, sitting so many miles away from those I'd long considered 'friends,' the tenuousness of all relationships becomes more apparent.

As we brace for snow, I am tucked inside, hard at work, grateful to be able to work. The work day will end with a cup of tea and my new cookbook in hand as scour recipes that reveal a history of the region the book comes from. It will be a perfect end to a hard day.