Last Christmas

This Christmas week, has been very merry indeed. Its been filled with family, friends, food, laughter, presents and love. But, its also been bitter sweet.

I've spent nearly 30 Christmas' in this home, and this year is the last one I ever will. My parents are retiring in 2015, and they are moving to another town to be closer to family, which is wonderful and exciting. But these past few days, as we've helped my parents clean out the attic and sort through the stuff, there have been moments where I felt nearly paralyzed with sadness as I was overcome with memories and emotions. 

My parents close on their new house on January 9th, but won't retire until the summer. But, that weekend in January, they plan to begin moving things to their new house each month, to make the final move easier. The next time I step foot in this home, there will not be a bed in my room, or things in my closet. The end is very near. 

Last night, Christmas eve, we went to our final Christmas service at church. The church were I was baptized, where I met Jesus, and went to Sunday school. The church where I made friends, played on the lawn, spent countless hours. During our final song, I stood quietly looking at the alter, taking it all in, just wanting to remember the church, because its been exactly the same since I was a child. 

And last night, I woke up after everyone went to bed, and wondered the quite rooms of this house.  A lot of life happened between these four walls. Good things and bad. Memories and moments that we treasure, and a million others that we have long since forgotten. Dreams came true, hearts were broken, fights and make up's occurred. First kisses, slow dances, parties. They all happened here. It is just a house, just brick and drywall, but somewhere along the way, it became home. A refuge from the storm, a place where love always prevailed. 

We leave tomorrow afternoon to head back to Dallas. So this, my final night, in my home before everything changes, before everything is different, before normal is no more, I will take a moment to thank this house. Thank it for always being warm and inviting. For always keeping me safe from the storm, and for being more than just a house. 

In these last few hours and days of the only "normal" I've ever known, I'm reminded of the quote by Steven Rogers. "Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but its whats in the middle that counts. So when you find yourself at the beginning, just give hope a chance to float up. And it will."

Contemplation

By nature, I am not normally very contemplative.

I don't spend a ton of time thinking about the day's gone by or yearning for yesteryear. At times, I could probably even be accused of being some what flippant. It is not hard for me to let things go, or shut things off.

However, on Sunday, I found myself laying in the afternoon sun on our deck thinking about years gone by. Yearning to go back in time, and grab the girl I once was and hug her, and whisper truth in her ear. I was yearning for friendship lost, for experiences never taken, and for mistakes that were made.

All of this was brought on by seeing someone I have not seen in 7 years. Someone whom I've always loved, but walked out of my life 15 years ago. Someone who cut the cord, and didn't make me a priority for a long time. That someone is my brother.

 Because he was my older brother, I idolized him. I wanted to be his best friend, and would do anything for him. He gave me my first sip of beer, let me drive his truck around the neighborhood when I was just 13 and my parents weren't home. He took me to my first high school party. He took me shopping with his money and bought me a pair of boots I wanted that my parents would not get for me because they were too expensive. He was a great older brother.

15 years ago, he was in college at Texas A&M, studying Economics, and seemed to have everything going for him. He was smart, funny, and had a ton of friends. Everything was going according to plan.

Then, one day, he called home and told my mom he was dropping out of school. He came home dropped off all his possessions, and walked out of our lives. He spent the past 15 years living in 7 different countries, working on and off, studying, and becoming fluent in several different languages. He has been a bit of a bohemian for the past decade. During that time, he would write a few letters a year, and call to check in maybe once a month at most.

For those left behind, it was almost like dealing with a death. We mourned, we missed him, we were angry, we accepted, and we grew, and we changed. We had to. It was almost like my brother leaving made my parents and I cling to each other that much more.

2 years ago, my brother came home, a decision that he never fully explained. He stayed at my parents house for a few weeks, and decided that he wanted to finish school and stay in the States. During the past 2 years, we have talked on the phone a handful of times, but have never seen each other until this past weekend.

For the long 4th of July weekend, P and I drove down to central Texas to spend the long weekend with my side of the family. To say I was nervous and didn't know what to expect would be an understatement. When he walked through the door on Friday afternoon, the moment was exciting, surreal, and uncomfortable. I didn't quite know how to act or what to say.

The weekend flew by, and he had a lot of fun. We talked, we ate, we caught up a bit. Will I see him again soon, that I cannot answer.

But, the experience left me thinking so many things. I was flooded with memories that I had long since forgotten. Sunday evening, I stared off into the sunset and allowed my mind to wander. I thought about the good and bad.

You never get a say in the hand you are dealt, you just learn to deal and adapt. You learn how to operate in the situation in which you are placed. You learn how to live and thrive even when you are hurting. You learn from the past, and hope for a better future. You learn that nothing is certain, and that sometimes plans fall through, and people let you down. You learn that "normal" is a fluid concept.

Keeping my mouth shut

Sometimes its really hard to sit by and listen and watch others make mistakes. Especially when its in  an area that you know a lot about. Can I get an AMEN from the crowd?

Last week, one of the guys that works for me needed help with some paperwork. He needed to take a loan against his 401K. I helped him with the paperwork, and explained what some things meant. In my head, I was thinking "NO NO NO NO NO NO" don't do this. But, I kept my mouth shut, and didn't say a word.

Today, he came into my office super happy and excited. He explained that the reason for his good mood was that the money he took out from his 401K had already come in, and he was so happy because he didn't think he would get it for a few weeks.  He told me he was planning to give some money to his mom, some to his son, but he was really excited because now that he had the money, he would take his wife to the fair this weekend. My hands were in my lap, and I smiled and said "Well, I am happy for you, and I hope you have fun!" All the while, my fingers were digging into my thighs, as I cringed inside. Yes, the State Fair of Texas is going on right now, but I don't think it is a big deal, but apparently others do.

Not everyone wants to hear about Dave Ramsey this, and his plan says that. Sometimes I can be a know it all (or a lot of the time depending on who you ask) but he is making a huge mistake in my eyes. I wanted to badly to tell him, to lecture him, and to set him straight according to the path that I think is correct.

Damn.

Judgmental witch, table for 1.

My path, my way, my thoughts, my views, my my my.

Sometimes, the best thing we can do is love others and show joy and excitement to them when they need it. To realize we don't have all the facts, and to understand sometimes we are not invited into the conversation. Sometimes we don't get to the be the teacher, advisor, or all knowing wizard. Sometimes, people choose their own paths. And, sometimes, its best to keep your mouth shut.

What would you have done?