holiday soliloqoy

what is it about holidays like a new year's arrival or thanksgiving that put me on an e-soapbox of sorts? (go ahead, there are those of you out there who are saying 'as if you needed an excuse')... :)
i suppose the reprieve from the confines of the 8-5 workday allow the freedom to reflect and consider that which may be tabled during the day-to-day.
maybe it has to do with ritual. and the establishing of some newfound variety thereof, as i personally traverse the complexities of getting older, moving away from groups of important friends and confidantes, losing the once foothold-bonds that seemed impossible to forge.
with each holiday's momentous passing, a reminder of what once was rears itself, reminds, cajoles, possibly, with tangles of memory; and then retreats.
the evolution of this ebb and flow smooths the stone-memory, creates anew, wiping old slates clean.
for those of you who've been a part of my email life these past few years, you may remember my wont to reflect and extend somehow.

i suppose electronic communication connects the distant, but also supports a maintenance of distance, too, if you're not careful.
the seeming connective correspondence with a friend or loved one, on a daily or weekly basis can quickly be a seeming thread of life to life, yet, what of face time? of true laughter, and not simply LOL or LMAO. i can think of those friends i work with--in the same building--whom i may pass in the hallway, but, i talk most frequently with over an email, maybe a phone call, and still too, and IM'd chat.
what of those who are miles, states, continents away? making time to reach toward them, feels so necessary. so important. a welcome ritual, a guilty-pleasure, a necessary elixir.

i made a vow, quietly, to myself recently, to slow down. literally. there are people who know me as a blurred enigma of sorts. a doer of myriad 'things' not one of which is very important. but a doer, nontheless. it saddens me when i see these people, and the refrain i hear is 'oh how have you been or what have you been up to, busy, busy, i'm sure, always so busy...you lead such an interesting life' so hurried. so happy.' i can see the expressions of those faces--friends and loved ones, and so many meetings in a row, i would shake my head agreeing, or possibly joking with them over the concept--alluding to my attempt to slow down a bit, and talking briefly over the latest-greatest-story related to one of these busy-life activities, which in & of itself, supported the whole scene--perpetuated it, actually.
so often i have wanted to look one of these dears straight in the eyes and say 'i haven't been doing a thing, and i like it just fine.'

a friend recently said this "I wish, sometimes, that I could simply exist, read and write all day. Wander back and forth. Let ideas come at me in between naps."
i related to this so intensely when i read it. as if i had found a secret treasure. an antidote to the poison of everyday life.

yet i crave activity. i enjoy doing, and sweating, and being.
still this luxurious bit of contrived living seemed as fruitful an arena from which to delve, create, deliver, re-ignite, quell, liberate, and onward and onward. as any i have yet to muster.

ahh, the decadence.

and so a theme (a point you say?)? my 6th grade teacher always corrected my inability to properly outline as well as to structure, positively, a supported major theme, and, as we all know, my stream-of-conscious-style rarely gets herself to a point, yet, a point, i thusly purport, here now.
i wanted to send this to you all, because i was moved to tears today. and it had to do with time. and ritual. and holidays. and family. and life. and the day to day decisions which add to years & years of just, real-life. and had something to do with just "existing" with taking naps, with fitting it in; and making the time.

my family, fairly small these years after tragic loss and sadness, started a ritual years back, and it had to do with the 'adult' gift exchanging at holiday time. instead of spending a bunch of money on a bunch of people, we determined to draw names, name a budget, share lists, and be creative with just one extra special person to spoil.
we all love this ritual. it has been a joy to watch, to receive, and to spoil as well. some years it seems, we're all broke at once, other years, we all have a little extra, and no matter what, everyone has a great time with their hand crafted or hand picked relics.
well, we've taken a few years off of this little ritual, for various reasons, but we returned to it this year, and although it took my coersion of a dear friend to get the names drawn (and disseminated through cyberspace we're all 'so busy' we couldn't remember to do it when we were together, or we just couldn't 'get together'), we finally did it. we all have our respective names, and we've been awaiting lists.
well, most of the lists came in, and they were adorable. there were requests for things like money for plane fare, and socks and lotion; but additionally, there were requests for love, love, and more love; for prayer for the president-elect's family and his huge tasks ahead; for dinner together during the break; for a family-attended service the evening of the 24th... and then present in all, but not articulated nearly as beautifully, was this:

Sorry I was so late on this there simply wasn't anything i really needed. however the one thing most precious to me other than my relationship with the lord and my wonderful bride and my children and my grandchildren and my family, that one thing is time. we are all busy and time management is a big thing.I've been letting the lord manage my time lately, and he does a better job than i do. at sixty years old I've been very blessed, and blessed with around 3120 Saturdays and if i live to be say seventy-five, I've got around 780 more Saturdays. good lord willing. that's just an example. so maybe we can just give a little more time on occasion.
anyhow i love you all
more than you know
bigger than the sky
have a great day
love dad

only 780 more Saturdays? and my dad might not be there for me to stop by & shoot the shit with in the garage on a Saturday morning? or meet up for breakfast with (which I've only asked to do once, in my life, when it was just he and I, and I'm 34 years old), or help haul wood from the pile to the woodshed with?
only 780 more Saturdays that we might attend one of Isaac's basketball games, or get together for a picnic on the back patio and have salmon on the grill?
only 780 more Saturdays to see that my dad has 'taken a long blink' again on the couch, while my mom and i sat bantering--one of her races on in the background.

truth is, as we've all been reminded a hundred thousand times, there's just no telling if i'll get 780 more saturdays or even one more with my dad. or he, with me.
what exactly, then, am i waiting for?
how many times do i have to reflect on the notion of carpe diem? how many reminders will i send out to all of you?
how many of you will see the amount of text in the body of this email and delete it, never to consider?
i haven't said it particularly well, and maybe the heartfelt plea in my dad's body copy, is only felt in my center, because of my own guilt for not taking the time to spend, with so many of you, so many people whom i adore, and learn from, and wonder about.

so with that, i'll end this little holiday soliloqoy with a plea to all of you to give thanks for what you have and what you've had. and to truly live every moment you possibly can.
on purpose.

happy thanksgiving.

my thanks to you for your part in my life.
"i'm so glad i didn't die before i met you." (thanks bright eyes).
love,
me