For the 15th of November, my 15th day of thanks, I'm thankful for the wind.
I know that sounds very odd and granola, but I mean it. Think about it. When you need something...a prayer, a hug, a hand to hold...if you close your eyes and feel the wind blow on your face, you don't feel so alone. The wind is healing.
In Tibet, they hang prayer flags to be blown by the wind, and they believe the wind carries the prayers up to the g/God(s). They also believe the prayers clean the air of the wind as it passes. Sometimes they hang bells as well which ring when the wind blows, letting them know that the prayers and mantras are being carried. It's a beautiful thought.
I have Charlotte's wind chime hanging on my front porch. I feel toward it similar to a Tibetan prayer flag. It's my prayer and memorial for my daughter, and, when I hear the chimes, I know that my hopes and love for her are being carried. I feel that she's near when I hear the chimes sound. It's comforting, especially when I feel such need of comfort.
The wind is like a fresh start, a prayer, comfort of nature.
For the 16th of November, my 16th day of thanks, I am thankful for Christmas music.
I realize that this is a complete mood shift from the 15th. My bad...but not really.
The local radio station begins playing Christmas music on the Friday before Thanksgiving. They start it when Delilah, the nationally syndicated radio host, starts playing it on her show...which is today. I got to listen to Christmas music on my way home from work today.
I dive down and snuggle into Christmas. I love the tacky claymation Rudolph, the Boris Karloff Grinch, and poor, sad Charlie Brown. I love tinsel, garland, and lights (though not blue lights! Christmas lights should not look sad!). I love setting up my Christmas tree, baking cookies for Santa, and wrapping presents. I spend far too much money on wrapping paper, ribbons, and tags to wrap the presents I also spent far too much money on. I wear antlers. I own a Christmas village. I have a Christmas door mat.
It's strange, really. For someone who feels so alone sometimes, it's strange to get so enthralled by a holiday that is all about friends and family. I don't know why, but I never really feel unloved on Christmas. Something about the holiday, and listening to Christmas music, makes me feel like I am wrapped and cozy in a large, fuzzy, metaphorical blanket.
Actually, I much prefer Christmas Eve to Christmas...strange as that may sound. Christmas is about gifts, traveling between parents' houses, and some form of traditional, gluttonous meal. Christmas Eve is about being with the people I love. We have lunch out, watch men struggle at the mall to find last minute presents for their wives/girlfriends/mothers/etc, go to church (which is really all about singing Christmas songs and being joyful), eat Chinese food, unwrap ONE present (traditionally jammies, but it's negotiable), set out cookies for Santa, and go to sleep: warm, loved, grateful, and happy.
I will own that I had a brief moment of sadness...this Christmas was supposed to be different...and listening to the Christmas music briefly took me back to my daydreams in June and early July...what Christmas would be like with a new baby. Charlotte was due December 5, though she would have been born at the end of November because she was to be a scheduled C-section. She should have been here for Christmas. A part of me isn't quite as excited this year, knowing that someone is missing...and will always be missing. An inordinate number of Christmas songs are about birth and motherhood (rightfully so), which slightly tampers my enthusiasm...
Christmas music is something to be thankful for.