to all the men i've loved before

you beat me down with your bitter lies, your rationalizations of what was, the excuses for your behavior. i never asked for niceties, just for you to be honest. you couldn't even be honest with yourself. my guilt has run out, the reasons why i stayed, knowing that you could never be what i needed you to be. and perhaps i was different then, less of a clue of who i was than where i was going. with age i see our faults, and looking back doesn't hurt as much as it used to. my sadness comes from making the same mistakes that i've made with you, learning is always such a battle. i've loved you and hated you, the line sometimes indistinguishable. it's time to let go of you, the memories (of which i tend to only remember the happy ones), the pain. life goes on, mine without you. i've found peace in that, and no longer fear being alone. i'm thanking you for everything you taught me, the good times that we shared, and the pain we caused each other. we would not be who we are now without the past. all lines will cross again, and i wonder if when that happens, will we recognize who we were once in who we will be then?

Christmas Cheer

Last night my BFF and I took her kids to see the Christmas lights in Sleepy Hollow to continue a tradition passed along from our own respective childhoods. It's still as amazing now as it was then. Funny how every year, once I see the elephant made of lights sitting on the tree swing, I am catapulted back to my youth. It's at that moment that the Christmas spirit finally arrives for me. Until seeing the elephant last night, the only Christmasy thing that I felt was the dent in my bank account. But with the kids in the car, with their wide eyes open trying to take everything in, I could remember how I felt when my parents took me. Each house competing so hard to be different and more spectacular than the next house. Each year more extravagant than the next. 3 streets and 6 blocks of Christmas light extravaganza. Southern California Edison must be having a field day with the supply and demand of electricity in this neighborhood.
With both kids in the back, and our mugs of hot cocoa in our hands (lap if you are me, since I drove), and the station set to Christmas carols, the season truly had begun. Ryan pointed out every toy soldier that he could see, and Alyssa fell in love with the candy canes. There was Sponge Bob and the characters from the cartoon dressed up in Christmas regalia, and there was Jack Skeleton from The Nightmare Before Christmas. There were polar bears ice skating, and an electronic dancing Santa that was larger than life. There was reindeer pulling a sleigh, and lollipops lighting pathways. I think that magic only happens when you aren't looking for it. And though I wasn't looking for magic last night, I found it in the eyes of two kids who still believe in Santa Clause.

Christmas Tidings

Yesterday I started on my Christmas card list. Who do I send cards to? Who do I not? What criteria defines a Christmas card receiver? I only came up with 6 households. Being single during Christmas shortens my list. I used to send cards to his parents and aunt, but those days are over. Christmas cards make me sad. I start thinking of all the cards my parents receive from people I have never met that were at one time close friends with them. They’d send pictures of the kids or whole family. Now they send pictures of their kids and grandkids. Time passes. It always amazed me that my parents once knew that many people. How come they never came around? How come they never called? As though being a grown up and having kids cut you off from the world. That you would have to give it up, you can’t have both.

Now as I compile my list, I call my friends and let them know that I’m sending this card. That I don’t want these cards to be the only definition of our friendship. I want them to come to dinner, for our kids (someday) to play with one another. I don’t want just the one card a year with the pictures of kids I’ve never met, and 365 days crammed into one or two paragraphs to keep me until the next Christmas. Why should friendships be limited to that? I’ve never understood. Hopefully I never do.