Decorating the Christmas Tree

First out of the box, two ornaments that Molly received from her foster parents. Those need to be placed near the bottom of the tree because they are heavy. Literally heavy, but heavy too because they have been treasured as gifts for an adulthood that will never arrive.

Next to be unwrapped, the collection from my best friend and her family. Here is the ornament that celebrates our trip to the Bahamas, and next is the one that we took home after the ornament exchange. I love the gingerbread man with the rolling pin. So fun! And damn if that swirly one doesn't look just right with a light behind it, just so. Perfect.

These homemade pipe cleaner candy-canes are from our first tree. All white. Lacey and fun. Haunted. And the white lace fans are from the same years, handmade by Barabara who lived with us for a year while she was dealing with some complicated family issues. After 26 years, we can probably put just a few of these on the tree, and throw the rest away. Our tree has moved beyond "all white" at this point. Our life requires color.

These here, from Spain and China and Alaska, are gifts from Grammy who has a passport that reads like a world geography lesson. It's a gift in itself to know that she thought of us while she enjoyed her many adventures.

I love the White House ornaments! They invoke this period of our lives when we are living near DC and have walked through the White House and have flirted with the corridors of power. So to speak. Hang those next to the National Cathedral ornament near the top of the tree. They'll be seen from there.

The 12 Days of Christmas are a treasure, handmade by my mother as a Halloween gift, and an incredible labor of love. Each one is a work of art. Priceless.

Equally priceless. These right here, the ones Molly made when we visited a "make your own ceramics" place while we were at the shore. And this one too, from a Sunday School class that Molly hated but I am glad that she attended.

Our neigbors from Philly gave us Motorcycle Santa, and our good friends gave us the cow. How could we ever forget that trip to Vermont when we stayed in a great cabin built in a cow pasture? That was the same trip when we ended up climbing a mountain to the top and literally sliding back down. None of us could move the next day.

These are so cool.. the Irish glass with our names etched into them.... make sure they are right in front of a light so everyone can see them!

The globes are amazing... round... and varied. They honor my partner and her love of geography. The poker chip ornament also honors her.

The birds are a gift from my bother's ex-wife. We need to hang those prominently because they are unique and becuase they honor my niece and because I have always loved my brother's ex-wife.

There is a whole collection, near the bottom of the box, of homemade this and that from friends with whom we shared our early adult years. At this point, we are sharing the deaths of our parents. And if for no other reason, we need to find a place for the needlepoint box and the painted house on this year's tree.

And what to do with the New York skyline ornament -pre 2001 - and the 2000 ornament that we probably bought in 1999 because we weren't really sure about the new millenium? Let's hang those in the middle of the tree, right next to the fun stuffed ornaments that my sister brought us from London so many years ago and the pink one that my grandmother sent for Molly's first Christmas.

Oops. I almost forgot. There is still room for the little stockings that we had been given for Cecelia our cat, who died after 18 wonderful years, and Sammi, Molly's gerbil who Molly helped me to bury. Molly was much braver on that day than I was.

Oddly enough, not one ornament from my own childhood. But a full tree of memories. Memories that invoke grief and joy and tears. Memories so vibrant that they can be touched. Memories that hold all that I have been and all that I have loved.

Dreams

My unconcious is in overdrive. Last night, the dreams were vivid and real....

• Molly was there. I could touch her. She was incredibly alive and it was amazing.

• I was in church, prancing around naked; that was unbelievably real too - and very disturbing.

• Christmas weaved through it all, and I was ready. Which is definitely not real.

I couldn't wake up. Didn't want to. The phone rang with a substitute teaching gig that I turned down so that I could go back to sleep.

By the time I was ready to let my dreams go, it was 11:30 in the morning and it was snowing and I was behind on everything I told myself I would get done today.

And it was worth it.

Wii

This is so not fair.

I have been living my best life (thank you, Oprah!). I have been exercising and cooking healthy foods and I've got three shirts that prove I have been out there running 5ks this month.

So, how have I gained 4 pounds? I ask you this.

I got on my Wii Fit scale today and received the bad news. Wii always tells me that I am overweight - how helpful - but today I absolutely expected to be applauded for losing a few pounds over the last several weeks.

There was a small glimmer of hope when the Wii shared that the batteries were low. Thinking that battery loss had resulted in a scale malfunction, I eagerly changed the batteries and redid the body test confusing the game and lifting my spirits at the same time.

Until I saw the results.

Which were worse than they had been on the low batteries. Would I like to record this new score for my daily result? Heck no. Keep the first one.

I will admit to way too many sweet potatoes over Thanksgiving. And to discovering chocolate maritinis when I was in New York this weekend. And you know, those sweet potato pies were half price at the store yesterday. So, I will admit to buying one of those too. Clearly, I have been in denial as it relates to weight management!

Gotta love the Wii. It tells the brutal truth.

Should I eat that pie? I already had some for breakfast. And you know what? Whatever. I feel good, I am healthy. I am happier than I have been in a long time. Bring on the pie.

School

Today was another day subbing in middle school; the subject - English.

Now, I don't consider myself to be an expert on English grammar but I know enough to get by and for the most part English has come easily to me. I have a BA and I am working on a masters.

I could not have passed the little quiz my 7th graders were taking today. What is wrong with this picture? The quiz was on different types of verbs: linking verbs, active verbs and helping verbs.

There was a full page of single spaced text to help the students discern the difference between verb types and quite a few little "tips" that I don't ever remember learning. For example, it's not the verb if there is an "ing" on the end, or if the word is preceded by the word "to". Helping verbs are included as part of the verb in the simple predicate. Active verbs are not necessarily active: love and like and trust are active verbs even though they don't imply visible action.

By the end of the day, I was confused. I could pick out the right answers (for the most part) but I sure couldn't tell you why they were the right answers or what the terminology for the answers should be. I would not have gotten 100% on identifying a helping verb vs. a linking verb. And I am not sure it matters to anyone but the testing entity - whatever that is.

I remember this happening with my own daughter when she brought home math homework - no way it looked like anything I ever saw when I was in school.

I get that things change. Technolgy and history and science need to be continually updated and changed in our schools. But when it comes to English and Math, I am thinking that some things just don't change and maybe we don't need to be re-inventing them for each generation.

Blah

After weeks of feeling an unfamiliar freedom and lightness, today I feel completely and totally blah. Maybe worse then blah.

• Some of it, dear friends, is my age and the hormonal changes we all go through. TMI, I know.

• Some of it is the holidays, and the fact that holidays hold a mirror up for those of us who have lost a child, encouraging us to look back on holidays gone by through a haze of songs and over done TV commercials.

• Some of it is that the weather sucks (yes, I said sucks) and it gets dark early.

Today sort of chrystallized for me in Target. I was trying to buy a curling iron and a few other things, and Molly's 7th grade English teacher walked by. I hope he did not know who I was, which is probably far fetched since I knew him instantly. He had been a "Molly fan" but I haven't seen him since Molly died and the last thing that I wanted to do, in the hair care aisle, was discuss her death. I just wasn't up for it.

I hid behind my bangs; I pulled my collar up; I chanted with the hope that I would become invisible. Anything to not have to interact with Mr. Starkin.

Who am I that I can be reduced to hiding in the hair care aisle? Is this me? I get up every day and I function; I have re-learned how to have fun and I am grateful for that. But I will never be comfortable with Molly's death. Ever.

Mr. Starkin, I am sorry. You were hugely important to Molly and I value all that you did for her. And that's why I couldn't face you. If you don't know that Molly is dead, I don't want to burden you, and if you do know, I can't share your pain right now. I can barely carry my own.

National Security

While I live in the DC area, I don't drive DC too much and don't know the expressway system well. Far better to take the excellent Metro system than to tackle the crowded and unpredictable roadways.

Yesterday, though, there was not much choice and I had to drive. I overbooked myself with lunch at 12:15 and tea at 4 with enough time to drive between locations as long as I remembered my GPS car charger and didn't find myself lost on the maze of one way streets that is Washington..

All was right with the world until I get within - I don't know - 5 miles of the Pentagon. It's at that point that I was alerted "GPS Single Lost". Fabulous. I am driving 65 miles an hour, on roads that require instant decision making and I am on my own. If you were behind me, I apologize. My driving surely reflected the instant confusion that I was feeling as I guessed at what lane I should be in and what exit I should be attempting to use.

By stretching imagination, I suppose one could argue that our country's "enemies" will be slowed down when their GPS units don't work. But if my GPS stopped working in the name of national security, I am going to point out that the Pentagon is a massive building, clearly visible from land and sea and air and that a more pressing issue in this case might just be road safety. Just maybe.

Those who wish the US ill will and want to find the Pentagon will find it - trust me on this one - and let the rest of us (many of whom are tourists and visitors) get where we are going!

Survivor

Everything I know about life, I learned from TV's Survivor. Perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but I'll stand by the statement. Just a few examples:

The smartest people do not win. This was a BLOW to me when I watched the series for the first time because I have always strived to be the smartest - and have (to my embarassment) chosen classes that I can get an A in to protect my class rank. So to watch the show and know that the most overtly smart people were voted off early (and I would have voted them off quickly too) hurt a bit. (Hence, I courageously signed up for an art class in my current master's program and it is going to blow my 4.0 GPA for sure. And that is just fine with me.)

Success does not necessarily breed success. There was a kid in high school who started winning every award freshman year. And then, having won those, the awards just kept piling up. The Jaycees one day - the Knights of Columbis the next. So, the idea that success breeds success has always resonated with me: just get that first resume builder and everything else will fall in line. Survivor teaches another perspective - the perspective that says if you have already enjoyed financial success, or if you seem to have reached a position of power and influence, you will be voted off. The thought is, you have had your share of success... let someone else have a go at it.

People generally prefer to be led from behind or from the middle. Somewhere along the line I picked up the idea that to be a "LEADER" was a good thing. And maybe it is. But in Survivor, and in too much of real life as well, the LEADERS are the first ones to be criticized, blamed and voted off. And the startling lesson of Survivor is that it does not matter the quality of the leadership: a leader will be voted off, and the the stronger the leader the quicker the torch will be snuffed. Far better to hang back, build an alliance of support, and make changes from within than to attempt to take the lead through executive fiat.

At the end of the day, Survivor is a test of who can handle the stress when life becomes physically difficult and emotionally unpredictable; the winners seem to be average people who know themselves well and have confidence in both their abilities and the abilities of those around them.

It isn't my GPA that is getting me through these last few years; and it isn't my resume or my positon either. It is my confidence in myself, my gratitude for those around me and my faith that even within the unpredictability of life there is an unseen order.

Survior is a text for the school of hard knocks - a school that most of us can claim to have mastered.