It's never about you.

The holidays tug at me with two passions. One tug is to do nothing at all except cook one traditional meal hopefully shared by all my family members together. Another tug is to become Santa and indulge everyone with their most secret wish. One side of me dreams of wish fulfilling, and the other, about being one with nature, simplifying life to its most important life source.


A different perspective will win this year.

We are anticipating the arrival of a new grand  baby in a day or two, and our lives have been directed exclusively toward making that arrival the focus of our celebration. Everything we purchase or think about will be for the new baby. I'm dreaming of baby songs, and baby names. I'm looking at my house through different eyes too. What do we need to do to make it baby-safe as well as elder-safe. The baby will become a toddler in no time, and while we won't be able to chase him around the house with ease, we want to elevate and lock all material that might be dangerous, secure doors and slippery surfaces, eliminate as many nuisances as possible. We're back to our own days of child-rearing; we are back to the most exciting times of our own lives.  We know how difficult and exciting those times were, and we want to be of help anyway we can.

This will be our second grand child. Our first one will celebrate her eighteenth birthday this month. She'll be off to college next fall just as the new grand baby begins to toddle. She'll need help with her college tuition; the new one, help with diapers.

When life is all about you, it becomes worrisome.
When life is about others, it becomes opportunities for growth and for hope.