The Gifts of Christmas

Maybe it’s because I’ve had to spend the past month recovering from hip replacement surgery with much of the time resting. Interspersed with gentle exercises and regular applications of ice over my new wound, I’ve found a lull of expectations and a quietness of thinking gracing my days. The fact that it’s the holiday season only enhances this temporary reprieve from the seemingly endless cuffuffles of ordinary life.

As I endeavored to graduate from a walker to a cane it rained up a storm, keeping me inside making seemingly endless rug tracks between front room and bedroom. As precipitation ceased, the thermometer dipped to early morning freezing temperatures prompting me to treasure my knee-high alpaca compression socks. Even so, when the afternoon sun irresistibly warmed my front door, I had to let it in despite the undeniably cold air accompanying it. Wrapped in the fleecy warmth of a throw blanket, door open and sunshine flooding the entryway, I counted it as one of the many gifts of Christmas.

Other gifts arrived as well: a delightful box of dried fruit and nuts; a bright yellow pillow festooned with a pattern of sunflowers; a Christmas tree decorated by my grandson who cheerfully carted boxes of decorations from the garage while we listened to yuletide music. Then there were the grocery runs by my son-in-law; a ride to my post-op appointment from a friend who treated me to lunch afterwards; and the daily “I’ll bring you your mail from the mailbox” by my nearby landlord.

At night I fall asleep smiling and awake refreshed and restored, ready for whatever comes next. I can drive myself to physical therapy now and I walk to my mailbox, reveling in the fresh air as I step on crimson leaves, the sounds of nature wafting over me. I even managed to attend my 15-year old grandson’s High School Winter Concert.

I’m reading Michelle Obama’s newest book, The Light We Carry, encouraged and comforted by her insights. One such insight:

Any time your circumstances start to feel all-consuming, I suggest you try going in the other direction—toward the small. Look for something that’ll help rearrange your thoughts, a pocket of contentedness where you can live for a while.

What a relevant thought! Indeed, another gift of Christmas for me to appreciate and embrace as we slide quickly into a new year.