I hope you had a
good Christmas yesterday. I hope you spent time with loved ones, and ate too
much turkey and had too many sweets. Christmas is, after all, a Feast day and it
does only come once a year. I really hope you feasted well.
Dinner yesterday
at the Ashbury household was a simple affair. It was just the two of us and our
daughter—and her three Chihuahuas. Grandpa puppy enjoyed visiting with the
grandbaby puppies. Yes, that is how my daughter talks to and of them and us. The
puppies all adore their grandpa, of course.
Mr. Ashbury is a
very soft touch when it comes to the animals.
We finished all
of our running around before Christmas Eve. In a change of pace, we had
breakfast out on the 24th with our son and his family. Our two oldest grandsons
have schedules that keep them busy, and it's hard finding time when they're
available to join in family gatherings. At 19 and 20 they're becoming adults and
beginning to build their own lives. Our son said it was the first time they'd
had both boys join them out for breakfast (which they like to go out for quite
often) in a long time.
They've grown up
so fast!
But then, so
have my own "children", who aren't children at all. Of course, at this time of
year, I always find myself remembering those earlier times. My mind fills with
images of Christmases past. I think my favorite photograph is of my pajama clad
babies, sitting on the stairs, vibrating with excitement as they wait for the
word to come down and see what Santa brought.
Mr. Ashbury and
I would have made it to bed quite late on Christmas Eve, something I'm sure most
of you can identify with. The rule for Christmas morning was that the children
were to wake us up and then let us go downstairs, and make our coffee. Then we
would take our places, cups in hand, first sips ingested—and only then
call them down to rip into their bounty.
This was all, of
course, so that we could be awake enough to fully enjoy Christmas morning
through their immense and boundless joy.
It's inevitable
that as you get older, you look back on the life you've led with a regret or two
coming to mind. One thing I absolutely don't regret is the Christmas mornings we
gave our children. Though times were tough and our means were spare, everything
went into giving our children the best Christmases we could. That involved a lot
of sacrifice, and a lot of post holiday bill scrambling and balancing—we never
used credit cards, but we did sometimes put other things off—so that we could
give our children generous Christmases.
Not for anything
would I have had them understand the harsh realities of life as it was until it
became their time to do so.
Now, of course,
we have no small children in our immediate family. Our youngest grandchild is
10. It's been a long time since we've experienced that particular kind of magic
at Christmas, watching children's eyes light up and go wide with joy.
Our Anthony once
told us that the presents we gave him weren't all that great, but Santa's were
always awesome! I didn't mind that one bit.
These days, we
content ourselves with giving quietly where we don't get to see that joy, but we
know it's there—and that's enough.
And we visit
with family and friends, ever mindful of how lucky we've been, and continue to
be, in the things in life that really matter the most.
Mr. Ashbury and
I wish you all the very best in the coming year. We hope it will be the best
year, ever!
Love,
Morgan
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