Saturday, December 15, 2007

5:49 P.M.

It is Saturday, and I am headed home, after a long day of shopping and errands. The boys are in the back seat bickering over a bionicle toy; a freebee from McDonalds (the first resolution for the year -and one I intend to keep- no more McDonalds or any other fast food for my boys or me). We are in the upscale part of Charlotte, and never in my life have I encountered such rude and obnoxious drivers. I want to be back up in my neighborhood north of this place, where the cow pastures can still be seen, where there dont seem to be so many cars, and when there are this many cars, the people dont seem so obnoxious. It's still the same town, but for some reason the people seem nicer...At least they let you into the right hand turning lane when they see your blinker on, instead of speeding up so you dont get in front of them....

I am in a foul mood, the curse words are on the tip of my tongue and would have long since fallen for my lips, save for the two innocents in the back seat. The traffic, the rude drivers, the biting cold, the rain (which I should be-and am- thankful for since were still in a drought) and my sons ready to strangle each other over a stupid .05 cent toy have pushed me to my limits, and I do not feel the Christmas spirit

But then I see Christmas lights on a house, and I recall days long ago, waxing nostalgic of a sun slung way down low on the horizon, a cold sliver of its former self, muted by mottled gray clouds promising snow flurries and endless strands of Christmas lights for as far as the eye can see. I'm 10 or 11 years old, and Christmas has me in it's thrall. I marvel at every light display with wonder and awe, so happy to be in the middle of all this Holiday fare. Many of these very houses we pass in the here and now I can recall from my childhood; this house had the Plastic Rudoplh with all the other reindeer pulling santas sleigh on the roof, that house had a life sized plastic nativity set ( I think it's the same one in their front yard still to this day), and i remember the joy i had, and realize that while I dont always have that joy in me, my children do (they really dont fight all that often), and one day, they'll be where I am, driving their children around, so I guess all is right in the world, so long as I have my childrens memories to live vicariously through.


Little Scribe said...

Thank you so much for sharing. I enjoy your posts and your photos. So beautiful.

Steve said...

I wish I could claim this photo as mine, but alas, I got it from