tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post8087266298482973960..comments2023-05-22T07:13:54.930-08:00Comments on My Merry Way: Things that make me feel at home ::Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00894597819646192048noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post-31424138561891650212007-12-03T08:35:00.000-09:002007-12-03T08:35:00.000-09:00Well, you're sweet! (Again!) It was complicated wi...Well, you're sweet! (Again!) <BR/><BR/>It was complicated with my parents and me. <BR/><BR/>My dad was SO quiet, so.....rural? That you just kinda felt like the goodbye conversation would go like, "Well, time to go." <BR/><BR/>"K, see ya".<BR/><BR/>And that'd be it.<BR/><BR/>He was very sick at the end, and that made it easier.<BR/><BR/>My mom.<BR/><BR/>Well, I won't gum up your blog with mom stories. I have my own blog to spew out problems! <BR/><BR/>But I found her difficult. Selfish, at times. Every now and then I see her in me, and I'm afraid. And I'm ashamed to write that about my own mom, as well. <BR/><BR/>Sigh.Christyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04974215579354036047noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post-46681920931560175492007-12-01T18:14:00.000-09:002007-12-01T18:14:00.000-09:00I'm not sure if you will check this again, but I w...I'm not sure if you will check this again, but I wish I knew something to say about your losing your parents.<BR/>I can only imagine the depth of that feeling, and I watched my mom lose her dad a few years ago. I know it is rough, and I feel for you.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00894597819646192048noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post-33450711756339975062007-12-01T11:24:00.000-09:002007-12-01T11:24:00.000-09:00Yes please do get a blog. I will read it. I thin...Yes please do get a blog. I will read it. <BR/><BR/>I think of this one as a bit of the autobiography I always meant to write. As well as a way to honor the people who are important to me, and the activities.<BR/><BR/>Yoga teacher! Very intriguing. <BR/>I love yoga, but I haven't practiced since I was pregnant. I need to get back in shape. Sigh.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00894597819646192048noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post-90722284528994790902007-12-01T04:54:00.000-09:002007-12-01T04:54:00.000-09:00I guess I envy you, with a little one, and so much...I guess I envy you, with a little one, and so much wonder ahead. <BR/><BR/>But I am trying to appreciate the inevitable wonder of teens trying to get their own identity. My kids are pretty good, we talk easily and honestly. <BR/><BR/>Yes, you're right about the love. <BR/><BR/>Part of my holiday malaise has always been that my husband and kids are Jewish, and I am not. I mean, we converted the kids, and raised them Jewishly. I was completely on board with that, btw, not bitter. (Oh, I say Christmas time, because it is still that to ME, but I was shopping for Hanukkah, which is next week, inexplicably!) <BR/><BR/>Just makes me wistful, now that all real little kid holiday opportunities are gone and my heritage was ignored--sort of murdered, by my own hand. Felt this moreso since my parents both died a few years back. <BR/><BR/>I try not to be too attached to, well, anything--I teach yoga, part-time, LOL--especially Currier and Ives type holiday images, but.....<BR/><BR/>Well, I'm human. <BR/><BR/>You're a sweet girl, to let me ramble on your blog! I will have to get my own, so you can visit.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post-2447206161002159322007-11-30T18:21:00.000-09:002007-11-30T18:21:00.000-09:00I haven't been able to reply quickly, but I've tho...I haven't been able to reply quickly, but I've thought about your comment all day. It has made me remember how I treated my mom when I was a teenager, and it wasn't pretty.<BR/><BR/>I can remember my mom repeatedly saying that she just wanted a little bit of appreciation for something. <BR/><BR/>And I can remember that I had to have the exact things I wanted, or I wanted nothing at all.<BR/><BR/>Perhaps in these types of situations, the real Christmas joy is NOT from the gifts themselves, but from the family love. I have a good feeling you have that. And I like picturing you texting them in the mall! [Funny how I have a mental picture of you! My friend, anonymous. :)]Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00894597819646192048noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3693662279324712342.post-14397446809701191182007-11-29T20:38:00.000-09:002007-11-29T20:38:00.000-09:00Just at the mall, with a handful of printouts and ...Just at the mall, with a handful of printouts and exact descriptions of items to be bought for the holidays (my kids know I am a bad, reluctant shopper and need help), texting my teens to make sure about the difference in boisenberry and purple....when I saw the mall Santa setting up for a session. Not a busy time, and I watched him yell, "Ho, ho, ho" --quite un-politically correct, I thought, while texting--up to the higher tier. <BR/><BR/>Looking up, I saw a mom and a little girl. The girl yelled "Santa!" and blew him kisses and kisses. <BR/><BR/>He blew them back with such sincerity. I cried. <BR/><BR/>That joy between them, it made me ache. <BR/><BR/>I long not to be jaded, especially at Christmas.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com