It is Monday, still morning yet and the sun is shining. That the sun is shining is in itself somewhat unusual this time of year in the Pacific Northwest. It is usually grey and very dark. The trees are even sparkly, as if they too are readying themselves for the upcoming holidays.
I am so not ready this year. I am working on projects, but almost none of them are holiday related. I find my knitted gift giving has become more random through the years. If I finish a project and it is the perfect fit for someone else, it gets gifted. Simple. Giving shouldn’t just be restricted to the holiday season.
It kind of is a back fired feeling though, because suddenly it is that time of year again and I have this awful feeling that that the expectations of the world around me are as incongruent as the leaves that are fighting for space with the Christmas lights on the trees downtown. And I ponder about how and when my perspective on giving changed.
I know that my cancer diagnosis 9 years ago had much to do with some of the changes, that suddenly the tangible effect of an acutal present took second fiddle to the importance of spending actual time with the people that I care about. This year there were several events that have emphasized that importance. Friends have lost parents. Friends have lost friends. And friends have lost children in unexpected ways. All of which have underscored to me the importance of treasuring the moments that are.
Those moments are what matter to me. Not the commercialism of the holidays. For those moments and memories are part of the fabric of our being and are in themselves a unique gift.