Santa To Me

Thanks for my peeps who remind me to blog when it gets to the point that I sometimes forget. A lot of changes the last few weeks have taken much of my focus.

Change is good sometimes, right? Ya its what I am telling myself.

Training is going well, I can't believe I'll be racing in a months time. Where does the time go? It's my favorite time of the year and I am doing my best to enjoy it. But I do admit I had way more fun with Christmas when I was a kid, I could care less about giving, simply receiving was my cause.

When I was eight I really wanted high top sneakers, that is all I would ask for. When I was nine I remember wanting a jean skirt. I guess showing my legs was all I could dream of. I usually got what I wanted, and thankfully it was always something affordable.

My mom still has the very first gift I ever bought her with my own money (that she gave me). It was a figurine of a house I bought at a bargain store in 1987. I never bought her a card, but the bottom of it was lined with green felt and in black marker I wrote the date, Merry Christmas and that I loved her. Anytime I see it (which isn't often), to hold it makes me remember what life was like for us back then, and that makes me tearful and grateful.

It didn't matter how many things were under the tree, or if we had a tree or anything to put under it. I knew from an early age Santa wasn't real. Or at least he wasn't an old man with a big gut and long beard. It was a woman I watched work night and day who never showed any signs of giving up. She'd wake me up when it was still dark outside, but let me sleep again on her lap when it was time to comb my hair. We'd walk in dark silence for half an hour to my sitters, and everytime she'd kiss me, tell me to behave and I'd watch her leave. She'd take the bus for hours even in the freezing cold, or pouring rain to work. Taking great care of other people's children, to make sure she could provide and take great care of her own.

I knew how hard it was for her to leave me every time and even though I was extremely young we were so well connected that I could feel her burden. I saw her cry many times and remember telling her it was "OK", and knowing that if I at least behaved, as she asked me to, I would be doing the only thing I could to help her.

So when I think of Christmas or this time of year I don't think of Santa, or Christmas trees. I think of the wonderful mother God gave me and how this time of year reminds me of how blessed I am to have her. And hope I can bless my own children with her resillence, devotion and gift of sacrifice. So when I think of Christmas I think of love and all the wonderful memories I have with her but mostly because of her. And how many of the most poignant ones come to mind around this time of year or just if I'm walking after dark in bitter cold.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Wishing you and your family the most joy and peace!

Perdita