My Night Before Christmas

Christmas trees with twinkling lights are showing up in stores, Holiday songs play overhead and wreaths hang on the doors. The weather outside is frightful, while snow falls through the night, but by morning it's a wonderland, a truly beautiful sight. Airline prices are sky-high, yet I don't seem to care, because I'll be Home for Christmas for "just one more year".

As the holidays approach, I'm sure that these images come to mind for most people (thanks to Hallmark and Norman Rockwell). I, too, had these fantasies until I was diagnosed with a brain tumor, one week before Christmas. I listened carefully as the surgeon explained why I needed surgery and the possible complications that I might have and then I asked if it could be delayed until after the New Year. (I wanted to be home for the holidays for "just" one more year)? He agreed, and I went home to prepare for my twenty-sixth annual Christmas Eve party, keeping my illness to myself.

On The Night Before Christmas, I put on a Happy Face and greeted my family and friends as if I were meeting them for the very first time. I actually "Listened" to their laughter and "Felt" the excitement in the air. For some unknown reason, I was extremely alert and grief-stricken, finally realizing how much joy I had missed through the years, simply because I tried to create those stupid "Kodak Moments"!

Silently, I roamed through my cozy home, watching the kids, all hyped up on candy canes, play video games and swipe cookies from the kitchen, while they secretly hoped to receive toys, instead of PJ's from the grab bag. For the first time in twenty-six years I took the time to "Enjoy" the party and " Feel" the solidarity that I had shared with these people for most of my life!

Suddenly, same old Christmas Tree with it's twinkling lights, homemade decorations and crooked little angel at the top, looked magnificent! I "Smelled" the scent of cinnamon that the flickering candles permeated throughout the house and wondered if I was "delusional" from the tumor. I FELT LIKE EBENEZER SCROOGE in DRAG!

That night, as I "enjoyed" the festivities, instead of fussing over food and dirty dishes, I learned to "Live In The Moment". I poured a goblet of my favorite, cheap, Zinfandel wine (on the rocks) sat down in the comfortable living room, put my feet up on the cluttered coffee table and watched the kids sail gift boxes, wrapping paper and a pair of dreaded PJ's across the room, as they frantically ripped open their traditional gifts of play dough, Hess trucks and puzzles.

While I sat there dabbing my long overdue tears with a napkin, actually "enjoying" the party, I decided that "Dying Was Not An Option"!

On MY Night Before Christmas, while sipping cheap wine and scraping play dough off the kitchen floor, my priorities changed forever. Now, I have the party catered, celebrate "Mindfully" and I try to remember "Live In The Moment".

Airfare prices are sky-high, but I don't really care, because I'll be home for Christmas for "Just One More Year"?


              And you'll hear me exclaim as I fly out of sight----------------------------------------------------------
             
                                                                         
              "Merry Christmas To All and To All a Safe Flight"!! ----------------------------------------------------
                        Dedicated to all survivors