David left the house last night with the red tractor tucked under his arm. He had commended my work with a "You did well, Diddlee". Max rolled his tractor around the living room floor. That is to say, he rolled it around until the paper and packages and boxes blocked his way. Christmas was very good to the boys. Max is much too little to understand what was happening, but David uttered cries of delight over and over as the wrappings came off many toys he had wished for. I tried to remember a favorite Christmas but couldn't. I have the photos of one Christmas where I got a cowboy shirt, guns, hat, and a riding tractor. That might have been the best of all Christmases but I don't really remember any specifics.Dickens' Christmas Carol is a Holiday Favorite. We all know the story where a flinty, joyless E. Scrooge is visited by spirits who show him the error of his way and turn him into a kinder man. What kind of visit would I receive?
The spirit of Christmas past:
David marveled at the load of presents under the tree. Most of the large packages were for him. I was witnessing in him the ghost of my special Christmases from so long ago. The little boy in pajamas sitting on the red pedal tractor wearing the cowboy hat and six-guns. Those moments of pleasure have faded from my memory. I have no recollection of them even when I see the photos of myself. But the photos depicted joy. So it makes me wonder if there is lasting value in Christmas presents. But through my Grandchildren, my past is on display. The look in those little eyes.
The pleasure of my Christmas past didn't belong to me, it belonged to MY Grandmother and Parents. Christmas past was good.
The spirit of Christmas present:
Lately I wind up alone on Christmas day. My work rotation puts me working 6 consecutive years on Christmas day. People get sick, they need hospitals. Just a fact of living. So here I am but it makes for good thinking time. What is different about this Christmas for me? Everything. The holiday has lost the "heaven comes to earth" for me.
The spirit of Christmas future:
Uncle lay there in the hospital bed. His face was wan and tired. His pneumonia was being treated with powerful antibiotics which made sense because he was sick almost unto death. At times he thought he was at home. He ate small bites of food too tired to really eat and lacking appetite to care. After a few bites, he was too tired to continue and asked to be laid back so he could sleep again. No sign from him about the imminent holiday season. Just too sick to care. He mentioned his Bible. Right now his thoughts were on what is coming next. Realizing that his time is nearly spent. Hoping all his efforts up to this point were sufficient to his Master to allow him paradise.