Little Things
Little Things
December 2, 1991
I have this ongoing dialogue in my head for when I’m feeling neglected—as I do for much of the Christmas season. It involves me when I’m famous and I’m being interviewed by someone who really cares what I think. Thousands of people who actually want to know my opinion about something. Ha! What a dream!
Anyway, in this dream, someone asks me to define the theme of everything I write—the main thing I’d like to say to people everywhere if I could tell them just one thing at Christmas time that would make their world seem all right. What would I like to tell the leaders of the nations that would make them understand their role in history and bring lasting peace on earth and harmony to all men everywhere?
I would say to them: clean sheets, a new toothbrush, a full tank, groceries for the week, and your bills paid. That’s what makes me happy. That’s what makes everybody happy. Some people might want to trade “a full camel” for “a full tank,” and some people might want a clean car instead of clean sheets—or they might want both. But basically, this about covers what everyone needs in the way of creature comforts.
You could rephrase this list further and add Christmas lights that work with no bulbs missing. Kids with some redeeming qualities. Parents that give you presents—even when you’re too old to get presents.
On this list would be a happy family. Not everybody has a family. Not everybody has a family that works. Not everybody has a family that brings them more happiness than grief.
What is a family? A family is a collection of people who’ve arranged to care for one another. Sometimes, it’s a mom and dad and two or three children who love each other. Sometimes it’s a mom and two kids and a brother in jail and a dad in someplace they’ve never heard of and don’t want to hear from. Sometimes it’s a collection of people who miss someone who’s gone during the past year.
There’s nothing like Christmas to make us miss what we had. The first Christmas that I was divorced, stayed up late decorating our tree and then sat by its light and bawled my had off. I remember the first Christmas when my now ex-husband and I had brought home our first little boy and sat him, just freshly arrived from heaven, in that same dim, multi-colored Christmas glow and wonderful how we could have had such a miracle happen to us.
All those Christmases of what I thought was a basically awful marriage came back to me as wonderful, warm, glowing times. I remembered all the stupid jokes my ex-husband used to play that annoyed the absolute heck out of me. I remembered the Christmas that we had nothing for our kids and my aunt and uncle who we hardly knew, sent us a big package with just the things we’d wanted to buy.
This is a man who for seven, from approximately the second day of our marriage, I used to fantasize would be hit by a large speeding truck on the way home from work and come to a quick, merciful end.
It I had to wish something for everyone in Springville, it would be that they can have the best of all things this Christmas: clean sheets, a new toothbrush, a full tank, groceries for the week, and your bills paid. I hope all your loved ones will be with you at Christmas, and that you’ll feel close to those who aren’t with you this year.
Merry Christmas to anybody who’s ever taken the time to read my column. I really appreciate the support and encouragement I’ve received—sometimes in the most unexpected places. Springville has some great folks—the best in the world!
December 2, 1991
I have this ongoing dialogue in my head for when I’m feeling neglected—as I do for much of the Christmas season. It involves me when I’m famous and I’m being interviewed by someone who really cares what I think. Thousands of people who actually want to know my opinion about something. Ha! What a dream!
Anyway, in this dream, someone asks me to define the theme of everything I write—the main thing I’d like to say to people everywhere if I could tell them just one thing at Christmas time that would make their world seem all right. What would I like to tell the leaders of the nations that would make them understand their role in history and bring lasting peace on earth and harmony to all men everywhere?
I would say to them: clean sheets, a new toothbrush, a full tank, groceries for the week, and your bills paid. That’s what makes me happy. That’s what makes everybody happy. Some people might want to trade “a full camel” for “a full tank,” and some people might want a clean car instead of clean sheets—or they might want both. But basically, this about covers what everyone needs in the way of creature comforts.
You could rephrase this list further and add Christmas lights that work with no bulbs missing. Kids with some redeeming qualities. Parents that give you presents—even when you’re too old to get presents.
On this list would be a happy family. Not everybody has a family. Not everybody has a family that works. Not everybody has a family that brings them more happiness than grief.
What is a family? A family is a collection of people who’ve arranged to care for one another. Sometimes, it’s a mom and dad and two or three children who love each other. Sometimes it’s a mom and two kids and a brother in jail and a dad in someplace they’ve never heard of and don’t want to hear from. Sometimes it’s a collection of people who miss someone who’s gone during the past year.
There’s nothing like Christmas to make us miss what we had. The first Christmas that I was divorced, stayed up late decorating our tree and then sat by its light and bawled my had off. I remember the first Christmas when my now ex-husband and I had brought home our first little boy and sat him, just freshly arrived from heaven, in that same dim, multi-colored Christmas glow and wonderful how we could have had such a miracle happen to us.
All those Christmases of what I thought was a basically awful marriage came back to me as wonderful, warm, glowing times. I remembered all the stupid jokes my ex-husband used to play that annoyed the absolute heck out of me. I remembered the Christmas that we had nothing for our kids and my aunt and uncle who we hardly knew, sent us a big package with just the things we’d wanted to buy.
This is a man who for seven, from approximately the second day of our marriage, I used to fantasize would be hit by a large speeding truck on the way home from work and come to a quick, merciful end.
It I had to wish something for everyone in Springville, it would be that they can have the best of all things this Christmas: clean sheets, a new toothbrush, a full tank, groceries for the week, and your bills paid. I hope all your loved ones will be with you at Christmas, and that you’ll feel close to those who aren’t with you this year.
Merry Christmas to anybody who’s ever taken the time to read my column. I really appreciate the support and encouragement I’ve received—sometimes in the most unexpected places. Springville has some great folks—the best in the world!
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