I'm pretty shy socially in groups where I don't know people. Last night was one of those events. People were friendly, but the talk was about a new grocery store and kid's college choices and themes that reflected their ages: about the age of my older kids. So we were several generations removed. I did my best, and in between, I toured solo the rooms chock a block with Christmas decorations, two huge trees, and sparkles everywhere. There were enough dodads for a Christmas store. All were beautiful and tasteful, but I kept thinking about the school in Pakistan. Children dead. Finally, my hostess came in and we talked a few minutes about that news. I had burst into tears earlier when I saw it on my homepage. So we had some genuine speech.
Then I found myself staring for a long time at the table of cupcakes, cookies, fruitcake, stollen, and all the stuff I cannot eat. I appreciated how beautiful it all looked. And I later realized not one thing was eaten until the end of the gathering, and then I saw a lady take one chocolate star shaped cookie. All this food, that children would have been thrilled with, but us adults were avoiding for reasons of diet, sugar restriction, whatever.
Holidays are hard. We get into social conversation mode, and plaster smiles on our faces, but of course heartache takes no break, so underneath are the ironies, the memories, the truth of the darkness in the world. Several of the women had just been through breast cancer treatment, as had my older daughter. I came home and wrote in my gratitude journal, and then I thought and prayed about the children trying to get an education gunned down by evil. It's a dark time of the year, when we put up lights and glitter to fight the winter cold and lack of light. What is so amazing is how the two states of mind hold hands, the light and the dark. We are survivors, and this is how we do it.
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