December 2008 - Making Christmas Mountain Therapy

I remember many times over the years when my Grandma Brooke and I would have conversations over the kitchen sink about life in general, and somehow it would always end with a big sigh and her usual, "Kimmie, you just don't know how quickly time flies."

She would continue on with "how I wish I had some of those days again," and tell me about the things she had hoped to do in her heyday.

Since I was too young to comprehend the seriousness of her lament, I would roll my eyes and secretly wish that time would indeed move faster. When you're a kid, you always want to "hurry up" to the next big event, whatever it might be.

And, I wandered when she would actually start calling me by my real name, Kim, like an adult. Kimmie just made me feel childish - not mature like you think you are as a teenager.

We would continue to wash dishes for what seemed like forever (to my dismay, she never rushed through kitchen chores) and somehow at the end of the process I would walk away feeling I had done something important or learned something new. Mostly, I felt loved and comforted by her interest in spending time with me.

Many years later I set here wandering where all those days have went. And, how life has become so complicated that we don't seem have time for anything anymore.

Recently the struggling economy hasn't helped. As a nation we are glued to the symbols of economic vitality, like the ever-changing stock market values or today's price of oil. In all of that commercialism, we often forget that time is truly the rarest commodity - becoming more of a limited resource each passing hour - and not traded enough in today's marketplace. And, as ironic as it is, these recessionary times might help lead us back to what really is important in life.

Remember those days when the electric would go down, everything would get dark and quiet and you would have to bring out the candles and play board games to pass time? You adapted for the day, and everyone usually enjoyed being together for a change.

This year, think of the holidays in that regard. Who cares if you can't afford to go shopping as much as last year, or buy as many gadgets, or don't have the extra gas money for a vacation?

Spend the extra time and money with your loved ones, whoever they might be. Bake some Christmas cookies for someone not expecting it, send a card with a handwritten note to a friend of yesteryear, or visit that elderly neighbor who lives alone up the road.

Make your children a special gift. I guarantee that will get their attention. They'll be amazed that you can even make something cool and they get to keep it (or laugh at it).

Decorate the house even if you're not in the mood. Who knows, after a couple days of walking by the dancing Santa Clauses and singing trees (you know the ones that irritate you by playing over and over again on the store shelves) you just might have a change in spirit.

Look around you and find a place to put some time. Even in small rural towns there are opportunities to share with those less fortunate. There are new babies to hold, elderly folks with no one to keep them company and many newly-widowed neighbors who would love to share a meal.

Somebody would appreciate a birthday cake, a hot meal, or a ride to the doctor. There are kids living nearby who won't have gifts and would cherish a new coat or a pair of shoes. Or better yet, something totally unnecessary like a video game or a baby doll!

Many organizations need volunteers to help with food and churches are looking for an extra hand. There are nursing homes residents hoping for visitors and travelers who will unexpectedly get stranded somewhere they didn't intend to be. I've been down that road a time or two myself.

In the spirit of the idea, I've decided to do my part and decorate the Snake Pit (that's the old farmhouse we currently live in) this year. It will probably look like something out of one of those Chevy Chase movies when the Griswolds eventually burnt up everything in the neighborhood.

When we lived out of state, we decorated heavily during the holidays. Our kids loved it and the house looked magical. It was something to look forward to each season. People drove down our street and paused just to look. Once we moved to the old farmhouse, it just seemed too dilapidated to put much time into, so we didn't.

My son, Jacob, brought tears to my eyes recently when he reminded me that we don't decorate anymore. He had been sick in bed for a couple days, and I laid down to snuggle with him for a moment, when he asked me when we would get a new house (I wanted to tell him, "Talk to your carpenter father about that one, son," but I was good and answered appropriately.)

"Why?" I asked instead.

"Because I miss Christmas, Mommy, and you don't decorate anymore," he said. I could hardly hold back the tears.

He was right. We hadn't decorated in a couple of years. It dawned on me at that moment that he was associating the holidays, not with gifts, but with all the days and time we spent as a family in years past decorating our house to the hilt and getting "festive." I knew that needed to change. At age 9, he still expected some decorations, and we didn't need our new house to do it (although, one with a stable roof and more than one electric outlet would be nice!)

At that point, I wanted this year to be different. People everywhere are worried about the country's state of affairs. Kids sense the worry, too. We all need a little lift and the holidays came just in time.

So, armed with several totes of old decorations, electric wire, pliers, a ladder and a couple of fire extinguishers just in case, Richard and I are going to attempt to put up some lights on the old place, and some ornaments in the yard. We might even get feisty and light a tree on the porch.

If you're driving down Hwy. 16 south of Grantsville one evening this month and you see fireworks above or a twinkling puff of smoke nearby, you will know that the lighting operation did not go well.

The way I figure it, if I can live with snakes in the bathroom during summer, I can live with no electricity and some burnt up lights for a few days in winter.

Most importantly, my gift to myself this year will be a phone call to my 90-year-old Grandma Brooke, who just recently lost her last sibling. She'll answer the phone like she always does, "Kimmee, it's so good to hear your voice. It's been so long since I've seen you. Isn't it awful how time flies?"

Just hearing her say those words will bring me comfort. Most of all, I can't wait to tell her about the gift my kids made for her - and that we've decided to take some of our time off this season and make the long trip to deliver it to her personally. A little time with each other will be just the therapy we all need this season.

P.S. Merry Christmas!