Out With the Old...

In the weeks following my mother-in-law's death, we had to go through all of her stuff and figure out how to divide the various possessions among her children. This has been emotionally taxing for several reasons.  For one, she had a lot of stuff.  Two, people assign sentimental attachments to certain objects.  And three, death makes people act sort of weird. Out of fairness to my husband's family, I won't go into it, but I'm fairly certain that this isn't the first family to get sort of wacky when it comes to a lamp or a pair of slippers, or an old piece of furniture.

It's just stuff.

I for one am quite tired of stuff.  In fact, I spent the last three hours putting together a pile of stuff of my own to bring to the Goodwill tomorrow.  Out with the old and to heck with the new. I don't need more stuff.  Okay, I take that back.  I might like to get some new pillows, towels and a bedspread, but I definitely don't need any doo-hicky's or knick-knacks or spices or jars or sweaters or anything else that I'll wear once and throw on the floor of my closet to collect dust.

I'm a pretty simple type of person.  I will wear the same five shirts for six months, the same shoes, the same purse and feel good that my clothing choices are simple.  Life is too short to worry if this shirt matches with this pair of shoes or if this purse matches this lipstick.  I've got bigger fish to fry.

So, today is one of my least favorite days of the year because it's loaded with expectation.  I used to think that I was supposed to have some sort of grand time because it's the end of the year.  Or I'd get all melancholy because I didn't achieve all those resolutions that I wrote down in a drunken stupor the year before.

This year, I'm going to take one of those jars that my mother-in-law saved and I'm going to write one good thing that happened each day and put it in the jar.  It could be as simple as "I woke up."  Or it could be "I got a piece accepted today."  Or "My husband told me he loved me."  Or "My hair looked really good today."  Whatever.  Next December 31, I''ll break open the dang jar and read about all the good stuff that happened.  Because, really, it's the little things in life.

And as U2 said so long ago...nothing changes on New Year's Day.  

Why not 27?

Like every other person who resides in America or has an internet connection and a beating heart, I have been thinking a lot about the tragedy at Sandy Hook elementary in Newtown, CT.  In the days that followed the mass shooting, I watched as both sides of the gun debate duked it out in the arena of social media. Some people think we need armed teachers or guards at every school and some people think we need to ban guns or at least ban assault weapons.

I'm not going to pretend that I know the answer, but I do believe that we need to do something. Ann Curry, a television journalist, suggested that we do 26 random acts of kindness to honor each lost life at Sandy Hook.  I liked this idea.  We need more kindness in this world.  We need to reach out and do nice things for people that we don't know.  We need to feel that the world is still a good place despite what just happened. I for one don't want to live out the rest of my life in fear of the world, resulting in home schooling my kids in a gun closet or a bunker filled with water and Top Ramen noodles.

To me, that is ridiculous.  We don't need to retreat, we need to reach out.

So, I started doing a few things and I did them anonymously.  I wrote them down and then I got to thinking, why aren't we including Adam Lanza's mother?  Was she not the first victim?  Or have we already convicted her of being as monstrous as her son?  After all, she knew he had mental issues.  She owned several guns.  She took her son to a shooting range.  In public opinion, she's damned and unfortunately she can't defend herself.

But, guess what?  I know plenty of people who own guns.  And I bet a few of them have taken their sons or daughters to the range or on a hunting trip.  Are they creating monsters?  Why are we being so hard on his mother?  Is it because we have to blame someone for creating a man who destroyed our faith in humanity?  

I'm going to play Devil's advocate here for a moment.  I came from a family of five kids raised by the same two parents.  One of my siblings brandished a gun and robbed several banks.  He also served twenty plus years in prison.  Four of us did not do that.  So, who is to blame for my brother's actions?  That's up for debate.

It's all so complex, but I'm going to do something simple.  I'm going to do 27 acts of kindness.  And you know what?  I may not stop there. 

Happy Holidays!  Stay safe, tell the people you love you love them, hug it out, eat, drink, and be merry! 

It's a Wonderful Life

Growing up, it was a tradition in our house to watch "It's a Wonderful Life" every year at least one time during the month of December.  As a kid, I liked the movie.  I liked the swimming pool scene and Clarence and the fact that the citizens of Bedford Falls all chip in to help George and they all live happily ever after.  But, as I've grown older, I like the film less and less. In fact, I don't think I've watched it all the way through in at least five years.  The last time I watched it, I wanted to pummel George's uncle for losing the money and I wanted to slap Mr. Potter for being an evil money grubber and knowingly withholding the dough to cause George and his family financial ruin.

For the most part, it's a very DARK film.  Look at this trailer, which makes it out to be some fun filled romantic romp with Christmas cheer.  It's no wonder that the film was poorly received when it was released.

And yes, death figures prominently in this Christmas classic.  George saves a lot of people from dying, he takes over the family business when his dad dies, and in the end, Clarence saves George from ending his own life. Dark!!!

So to save myself from sounding like a total grinch, the real take away message of this film is that we do impact all the people around us.  A lot of the time we don't even realize it or see our own value in the grand scheme of things.  We may think we're just some speck of sand in the giant sandbox of life.  But, truth be told, we are all important and when we're gone, someone is going to miss our wit or our baking abilities or our craftiness or whatever it is we do.

So, is this one of your favorite holiday classics?  If not, what is?  This year I'm leaning towards Elf.