The semester is over and I am so happy to be home.
It was supposed to end nicely with three A’s and a C (in statistics of course) but I realised last night that I was one question away from an A – rather an A minus – in world religions. Nothing upsets me more than an 89 or an A minus. All that says to me is “Haha you were not good enough for an A, I bet you thought you were! Haha.”
With that said, I am getting two A’s, a B+, and a C. Moving right along before I get upset again.
Being home for 2 weeks feels good. I recently got a new mattress and bed set that makes my bed ten times more comfortable. Mother dearest also went out and bought new towels – one of which I used last night and thought I was in heaven. It is the softest towel I have ever used, and I felt as if I should have been using it in slow motion.
One of my best friends came over yesterday and reminded us that we don’t just have a house, but a “home,” as he looked around at the painted walls and renovated kitchen that my mother designed. The house has always been welcoming and decorated with “a mother’s touch.” Now the coffee tables and shelves bear cute little snowmen, scented candles, and Santa clauses in the true Christmas spirit.
I’d love to say that it is beginning to feel a lot like Christmas, but the heat outside says otherwise. Still, all it takes is a fresh and scented Christmas tree, a few decorations, candy canes, and Christmas lights to put me in the mood. In fact, that is my favourite part of this holiday season.
In true Meisha fashion, I do have a complaint. This mild case of bronchitis that I have been dealing with since Sunday is rendering me unable to eat. I am not even able to swallow my spit without careful planning and preparation for the pain. My ears are clogged, my head is congested, and I am losing even more weight. Have I taken medicine? Of course not. I walk around every day stubbornly believing that my immune system will nip it in the butt all on its own. My patience is wearing thin and I really have no time in my Christmas schedule to be sick – but back to the decorations.
I cannot wait until our lights go up, and I plan to decorate the tree in the days to come (I am thinking purple and gold.) Yes, I take pride in my Christmas tree decorating skills and every year it boasts a specific theme. (Multi-coloured just does not work for me.)
Brother unlucky is coming home today so the Christmas shopping is soon come; that part I am not so enthused about. To me Christmas was never about gifts, it was about family time. It is just about the only time of the year that people slow down a little and look around at the blessings the Lord has bestowed upon them within the year. It is the time when we sit around at Grandma’s house on Christmas Eve night, drinking hot chocolate and talking about life, while we await the midnight hour to watch the “kids” open gifts.
I have some warm and fuzzy childhood memories about Christmas at Grandma’s. Now that I am older and gifts do not excite me as much, it is more about watching as my little cousins open their gifts and their faces light up like the Christmas tree beside them. Maybe that is just me though, because father’s face lights up just the same when it is his turn to rip off the wrapping paper.
Have I mentioned my gift-wrapping talent as yet? Pardon my boasting, but my near perfect gift-wrapping is often called upon by others who are not so meticulous. I’ve wrapped many gifts for those who simply cannot master the art, and it bothers me a bit to see that all go to waste at 12 01 when the papers are savagely ripped off by my overly-excited family members. Nevertheless, slow gift openers – as I’ve dubbed them – are plenty more irksome than the “savage” ones. I’d like to say I am somewhere in between.
I missed out on all of these memories last year. By this time we were packed and ready to board the Air Jamaica flight to our second (or first) home. This year, I get the best of both worlds; Christmas preparations in Florida, and New Year celebrations in Jamaica.
I guess I have found the cloud with the silver lining.