Saturday, December 13, 2008

The Best Date I've had in a Long Time. And There was Cuddling.

I surprised my ten-year-old with a trip to Rochester Hills last night. We were supposed to stay in town for mommy-daughter night and watch the local production of The Nutcracker, but I needed to do better than that with the week I've had, so I took her to Meadow Brook Theatre's annual production of A Christmas Carol.

On the car ride there, the first thing she asked is if I had received any more bad news. I laughed and responded in the negative. She seemed fully aware that silence would be deadly and carried the conversation for the entire drive.

The play was magnificent, we were both pleasantly surprised. During the intermission, I talked to her about how important and enduring this piece of literature is. She saw evidence in this in her grandma's Tazmanian Devil holiday doormat that reads, "Bah Humbug!" I couldn't say it any better than the director of the play, Terry W. Carpenter, so I won't try:

"The aromas, songs, flavors and colors of the holidays along with the added excitement of family and friends cement those memories more firmly in the foundation of our subconscious. Unfortunately for all too many of us, our memories bring back feelings of regret or remind us of an unpleasantness. Then, like Scrooge, we try to hide that memory further back, cover it with something else or direct our passion elsewhere. May we all remember, if only one of the lessons Scrooge is taught by his ghostly visitors, that we are able to look back at all our past choices to decide which of them to repeat today and bring into our future. A happy New Year to all!"

That said, I'm going to try to consciously halt the voice that keeps reminding me that, last Christmas, I should have been driving away for good and then, maybe, this Christmas, I would already be repaired. However, I'm not and that's okay. I still have many years of good memories and what I choose to do with the good or bad right now will determine how I remember this year.

At the end of the day, it doesn't matter if what I envisioned for my future is not to be, it doesn't matter that I'm losing my job. What matters is a glimpse I had of my beautiful daughter in the car on the way home, contentment defining the corners of her lips.

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