I tried to right a wrong this holiday.
I misspoke, once, to a longtime friend and lost her friendship. I say, misspoke but really, the thought must have been there or the words wouldn’t have come out of my mouth. I’ve tried to apologize, but she won’t speak to me. I’ve called, emailed, written. Nothing. It’s been two years, but I still feel awful about it. And I miss her.
So, I tried again. I emailed her on her birthday with no response. I’ve just tried to call with no answer. I don’t blame her. What I said was unforgivable. I just wish there was some way I could make it right. I’ve tried enough and asked enough to see now that she really does just want to let this go. My mistake. My loss.
In spite of my bad behavior, Santa was still pretty good to me this year. Got some cool toys. I even got a Magic 8 Ball. Had a nice brunch with family. Spent the morning with a baby on my hip and friends and family all around. It was exactly the way Christmas should be.
After all the hoopla died down and the gift wrap was all bundled, bagged, and tossed, I spent the day sweeping up dog hair and pine needles, doing the laundry, and catching the “House” marathon on USA. I almost never watch television, but after five straight episodes and whatever subliminal messaging was going on in the background, I think I’m addicted to that show. That character is just so grumpy and sarcastic and smart. He cuts right through the crap to tell it like it is, and I dig that about him. Reminds me of my grandfather. Well, a little. I’ve yet to see House play cribbage or walk through the kitchen singing “My Wild Irish Rose.”
And so, as the holiday comes to a close, I’m thinking about the things that were given to me that you can’t buy in a store or order online. I’m so fortunate to have so many great people in my life who’ve always given me their love freely – year round. I don’t think I’ve told them enough, or at all, that I love them, too, and that I’m honored that they’ve made me a part of their lives.
Well, I do, and I am.