The Bah-Humbug Girl

I can't help it. I just can't get into this Christmas thing. With all the bright, glittery, flashy green and red lights decorating our neighborhood and malls (and streets, and restaurants...), it just seems like such a waste of money...and time...to fall into the melee again this year. Well, I should add that last year was a complete bummer of a holiday except for the fact that a lot of people opened up their pocket books and contributed to the needy. This year they are doing the same.

Just in time for a tax write-off, eh? 

It gets me that people think they are doing something so worthwhile and wonderful during the holidays but at other times of the year, when people still need assistance...i.e., food, shelter, clothing, basic necessities...they have to go without. Because hey, it's not the holidays. We don't want to give until that Thanksgiving turkey is gobbled down and the first Christmas songs are heard on the radio. We wait and see what we have left over from our own spending. Then maybe, just maybe, we'll write a check out to a worthwhile organization to help the needy.

Again, just in time for a tax write-off.

Yes, I am being cynical. I get so tired of the wanton waste of our nation. Tired of Black Fridays rolling back to Black Thursday evenings. What about the employees of these stores? Don't they get to stay home on Thanksgiving night and spend some lazy, after dinner time with their families? I actually know of one big department store that threatened to fire employees if they did not come in on Thursday evening. At 6:00 PM no less. 

Of course, of course, there are a lot of lovely folks out there who give freely of their time and their money all year round. But these are not the norm. They are the folks who can usually least afford to give but they do it because they know it is the right thing to do. Not because of some Karmic aspiration but because they know that we need to pay it forward. They have received the blessings of life, a roof over their head, food to eat, maybe even a job. They dig deep into their pockets and organize fund raisers for the less fortunate. They help out at hospitals crowded with cancer patients and old folks who probably won't see another Christmas. They are the good guys, the ones who really care. Unfortunately, there are not enough of them.

Think about it: Anyone reading this probably has it better than 70% of the American population. Do your kids really need that big pink Barbie car that costs $100.00 plus? Do they need the new t.v., the Kindle Fire, The X-box or Wii system??? What they do need is to learn about values, about caring for others, about volunteering and helping and loving people. They need to understand that there are kids out there without parents, without a home to go to, who are aging out of the system and will have no where to go but maybe the streets. In a nutshell, they need to learn compassion.

This year, I am basically broker than normal and my grands will be receiving home made gifts that I have made on my 20 year old Singer sewing machine. But they are being made with much love. Last year's gifts were toys and doo-dads that have already been relegated to the trash. Broken and squashed. They are also getting books because if there is one thing I learned at a very early age it is that if you can read, you can go anywhere and be anyone you want to. It's like closing your eyes and riding a cloud to another world. 

For those of you who take umbrage with what I am saying here, I have to admit I would love to have a few fancy things myself this Christmas. And the big malls lure you in with their glitter and glam and sales, which aren't really sales at all if you think about it. The wealthy buy big, expensive gifts for everyone...in their family or their friends or their co-workers. The not so wealthy whip out their credit cards and charge them to the max, only to have to pay for the next few years or end up in bankruptcy. I do know what I am talking about. I have been in both situations. And I prefer to keep what little money I have close to the vest so I can offer it to charity (or charities, in my case) and to people who really, really need a helping hand.  If you are one of the more fortunate ones who can afford the luxuries of life, I hope you realize that you did not earn that wealth all by yourself. There were people who worked with you, for you, who gave birth to you or in some other way helped you get that money. You are no more deserving than anyone else of having a wonderful holiday. So put down the expensive toys, the fancy gadgets, the extreme decorations and all of the other fiddle faddle of the season and count your blessings.

Because if you think about it, you really do have so much more than you think you do.

Happy Holidays from the Bah Humbug Girl

How Running Away Renewed my Spirit and My Soul

How Running Away Renewed My Spirit....

There have been days when I wanted to hide under my bed and just lay there, sulking for an unlimited amount of time, perhaps forever.
There have been days when I wanted to just get up and leave, never to even think about coming back again.
There were nights when arguments would escalate and I would cry myself to sleep, wondering if it was me or if it was him or perhaps, both of us.
Seeing a counselor. Yes, that helped.
Taking anti-depressants, sure that helped.
But nothing did me any good.
Until I ran away.

Yes, I ran away. From it all. My husband, my friends, my pets, my neighbors. From my writing job here in Florida. I ran away to refresh my soul and my brain. I needed this, for me. Of course my husband didn't see it that way. He saw it as an affront to him. Pfft. Men are like that, you know. They think everything is about them. When in reality, it has nothing to do with them at all. It has to do with us, the female half of the relationship. It has to do with us wanting more out of life, wanting to get to know ourselves better. And in my case, connecting to my daughter and her family including my three grandchildren who I rarely see anymore. I needed them and hopefully, they needed me.

Nothing is more rewarding than having three little ones crowd around you for attention. I never tired of the "Grammy, Grammy, Grammy. Look at me!" that followed me around each day I was out in Portland, Oregon. I never tired of their little faces, their antics, their love. They would follow me everywhere and when I would finally get a bit tired and want to retire to my room, they seemed to understand because they knew i would eventually come back downstairs to be with them, to watch t.v. or to read to them or to just play. 

I loved being with my daughter who is a grown woman doing grown woman things...working every day, going to school at night, volunteering at a homeless shelter one night a week. She and I had plenty of time to connect...via shopping, going for coffee or for dinner. I had the blessed experience of connecting with my son in law. We have never really seen eye to eye but for some reason, during this visit, we didn't argue. Not once. We laughed and joked. We talked. It was...well, wondrous.

I did a little writing. Even though my computer crashed when I got there, I was able to borrow my son in law's in order to write a short story or two, outline a new novel. Things I just don't seem to do at home. This is, after all, why I ran away. To get back in the groove, to find my motivation again. 

I talked to my hubby almost every day via cell. He was incredibly lonesome without me and there was nothing I could do but assure him I would return. He wasn't so sure since I had bought a one way ticket out to Oregon. But I always buy one way tickets. It's cheaper that way, at least for me. Who can beat 300.00 roundtrip fare from Florida and back again? I even got an upgrade in seating on the trip out! Not so dumb, if you ask me. He talked about seeing the counselor while I was gone, their conversations. He talked about being depressed. I invited him to join me in Portland. No, it was too expensive he sighed. Well, maybe, but I thought the trip would do him good too. Still, he didn't want to part with the money. It didn't make me any less happy that I had made the choice to come. In fact, I was happier than a clam, being out in the cool weather, my window thrown open at night. Bundled up in quilts, feeling the fresh air brush against my face. I was loving the change. Because you know, everyone needs that occasionally. A change in atmosphere, in perspective.

I stayed exactly three weeks and one day. Perfect. The weather changed for the worse the day I left. Thank you God for an October that couldn't have been better in Portland, OR. Thank you to my daughter and her wonderful family for their hospitality and understanding that mom and "grammy" needed that break and am so much better off for it. And thank you Bob, my lovely hubby, for not breaking my spirit and by welcoming me home with flowers and wine and candles. I think he finally gets it...that I needed to run away in order to run back home again and live life to the fullest. Until the next time, when my spirit and soul beg for renewal.