Running Low on Spirit

This morning I was out playing tennis with my 'friends of a certain age.' I noticed one of them was wearing tennis socks with a little Santa embroidered on them.

"I miss my mom at Christmas," I said. "She would have had something like that. And a Santa shirt and earrings."

"My mother always used to cook all this stuff," she said. "She baked and cooked just everything. Of course, she didn't play tennis and Bridge."

My dad isn't feeling too good. Rather than call me yesterday, he contacted the doctor himself and even drove to the pharmacy drive-through to get prescriptions for an antibiotic and a pain killer. I asked why he didn't call me but he didn't have much of an explanation. He asked if I'd come over after tennis and get in his paper and mail. Which I did. He wouldn't let me do anything else for him, though. "I need to get up and do things for myself."

My spirits are waning.

Although I did have a nice meal out with some girlfriends last night. It's kind of a holiday tradition. We always pretend we won't exchange gifts either but we had some to exchange. I felt festive for a few minutes but maybe it was only the Zinfandel. And, at the time, I didn't know my dad wasn't feeling so hot.

My Colorado relatives are in the middle of a blizzard. Not as bad as 2003, they said. But my niece with the three boys said no one could get around unless they had a high clearance vehicle. Her six-year-old and four-year-old kids were building a snow 'mountain' in the front yard. They had twenty-four inches before drifting.

I am officially not hoping for snow to raise my spirits. A couple of days ago they were holding out the possibility of freezing precipitation for Austin around Christmas. That made my mother-in-law say they might not want to come over. I told FFP I was making a Christmas Eve dinner even if I had to deliver it to everyone. Now, with my dad feeling poorly I may have to do just that. And to think I put Christmas joy all over the house (see photo) mostly in the form of bendables.

There was a time not too long ago when I would have been happy and festive just to have some time off. Time to savor a cup of coffee and something to read. Time to play a game or put together a puzzle. I miss my mom. She'd make me do that. "Let's get out a puzzle," she'd say. "Get me a cup of coffee," she'd say. "And get out the Scrabble."