currier and ives

Last weekend, everything happened.  After an indulgent day with family, friends, dad j’s edema hit the roof.  Condition?  Miserable.  The next few days were spent penitent, his swelling feet propped on various makeshift stands.  But this would have been fine – this could have been great, tolerable, manageable – had it not coincidentally coincided with my own revelation:

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Fever.  Fever.  Fever.  Fever.

When you think about it, there are worse things.  Of course there are.  Sure.  Still, I lost it, somewhere between dizzily sauteing the umpteenth salt-free meal and lifting 180+ pounds of man with my shaky, achey shoulders, my mind imploded.  I was so upset.  And around Christmas, I cried defeatedly to myself.  All the cookies to bake, decorations to make, all friends and family to remember!  My hands wrung each time I coughed into them.

Thankfully, I know people, people who know how to navigate the flu, who told me to push liquids and sleep.  I failed to get much sleep.  But I eventually felt the illness lift like a damp coat, shrugging off my shoulders.  I began to clean, slowly, to carefully hang up stray decorations.  Dad j began to move on his own again.  He threw out his own garbage to the tune of my grateful heart.  And then we made it, the two of us.  We sat down and plowed through almost 40 Christmas cards.  I addressed and stamped with feverish vigor.

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And, you know what happened next.  Bake fest happened.  Tins of cookies were assembled.  Mailed.  And yesterday, I managed to compile my presents for my coworkers.

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Mini country loaves!  These were the highlight of the gift, which also included jam, cookies, and a hot cocoa stirring stick.  At HomeGoods I found these cute Santa popcorn boxes.  They held everything with such warm cheer.

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Bags assembled, I drove in the rain supposed to turn to snow.  I realized the weeks had suddenly come to an end, that mom J was arriving the next day, this day.  A warm feeling stole over me, some mysterious currier and ives witchery, despite the gray and the wet, the spring-like December.

Merry Christmas, friend.  Wishing you and yours the warmest holiday season.

 

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