Christmas Deferred

I decided no last-minute 2024 Christmas rush for me.

I started present shopping in September, piling them on the closet floor. The tree twinkled by the end of November. I cleared the dining room table for giftwrap and ribbons, settling one finished gift after another on the lace tree skirt. Then: battery-operated candles in the windows and spotlighted wreath on the door.

Recipes selected and studied, I gathered baking supplies: dark and light brown sugars, 2 dozen eggs, box upon box of butter, chocolate and butterscotch chips, pounds of flour and white sugar, mint squares, 2 bottles of vanilla.

A friend sewed and mailed holiday aprons for Maggie and me to wear during the cookie-making spree.

Foil pans stacked for beef tenderloin, turkey, 2 potato casseroles. Plenty of green beans and parsley in the hydrator.

Ready, set…

Next thing I knew, Cliff was on a heart-stabilizing IV and whisked by ambulance to the Cleveland Clinic.

Maggie and I followed.

We spent the whole holiday there, watching Cliff covered with ribbons of IVs. Staff wheeled him in and out of the room in his white-sheet sleigh. It was nail-biting.

We came home with him on New Year’s Day--too exhausted to do anything but eat sauerkraut and black-eyed peas for good luck. Heaven knows we needed plenty.

On January 2nd, we opened our dusty gifts, knowing the best gift of all was Cliff, seated in his leather chair.

Life can get away from you—quick as a sneeze you can’t control. You have no choice but to meet the unplanned moment.

Even when it’s Christmas.

And those empty cookie tins? February has a holiday, too.