Tag Archives: memories

chapter one

i’m a week and a half away from starting my new gig. so many things flooding through me – excitement! fear! sadness! anticipation! elation! it’s been a long time since starting a new job. i’m taking my own “be where you are” advice and just rolling with it, emotions and sentiments changing like the wind. one thing i know without a doubt: i’ve been lucky to work with truly amazing and exceptional souls, and i’ll miss them so much. especially my mentor, whom i’ve adored more than any previous professional, and who’s had so much to do with my growth and development and overall READINESS to take on this new challenge.

looking forward to the next chapter.


love’s letters lost

i started thinking about this last week, and it’s in my head tonight again so i figured it’s time to log it. blog it.

you know what makes me a bit sad? i wonder if people growing up today will ever know the wonder of the love letter.

like back in the day, when you’d write your heart out to someone on actual PAPER, using an actual WRITING IMPLEMENT.

or you’d receive one – your breath caught in your throat, your heart skipped a beat when you saw your name written on it, and you’d open it to scan it quickly to see how much was written, to know how much you had to look forward to before you sat down and slowly digested every delicious word. then you wanted seconds, thirds, even dessert.

i probably still have most of mine. i still remember much of what i wrote to others. these words and the resulting emotions are etched on me forever.

kids today text. if random social media stats are correct, kids don’t even email anymore. you think about how easy it is to text things to people. short, snippy snapshots at 160 characters per. anything of substance? hang on a couple minutes while you wait for the three-to-four texts to roll in, one after another. your auto-correct changes “heartbeat” to “harvest,” but you’ll still get the gist, right? your heart might still skip a beat, but it’s more from the wait than the words. email and text versions? too easy to delete when things turn sour. paper has a permanence that digital doesn’t.

it’s too easy. too choppy and too disjointed.

that the love letter might be a lost art is a blow to love (and life) as we know it.


ghosts of christmas past

the other day at work, we were chatting about our favorite christmas songs. although i’m as secular and irreverent as it gets, i love me some christmas music. i have a whole christmas playlist that i add/delete from my ipod on a seasonal basis because it takes up a fair amount of space.

anyway, my favorite christmas song is “have yourself a merry little christmas.” whenever i mention that, the typical response is “oh. that’s kind of a sad song.” and i agree – it is a little melancholy, which is what i really love about it.

the holidays aren’t just fun and games and presents and glitter. i think there’s a lot of emotion wrapped up there too, and some of it is sad. i can’t be alone in this – otherwise, how would we have these wistful and wishful christmas songs?

i think a lot about what christmas was like growing up. my brother and i were very lucky kids. we always had wonderful christmases. our parents did things like the family-christmas-tree-getting excursion (very griswald, i know!). we’d head up to arlington for a day of hay rides, cider, and choosing our very own tree to chop down (we usually chose a douglas fir). we did an annual day at a food bank where we helped assemble christmas food baskets for people in need. my parents helped us put out the eggnog and cookies every christmas eve, and never laughed at my insisting we include carrots and apples for the reindeer. snug and freshly pajama’d, we’d read “’twas the night before christmas” before bed, and we’d wake to a bunch of presents under the tree. stockings first, then breakfast, then prezzies.

i think a lot about christmases spent with my first serious boyfriend and his family. they always welcomed me over to share in their christmas eve festivities. i remember little things like how they always opened all their presents on christmas eve (which i found equal parts horrifying and hilarious), and then on christmas day they’d open all their stocking presents which were always stuffed inside of paper grocery bags instead of actual stockings. then they’d go to a movie (horror of horrors!) and have turkey, having done a honeybaked ham on thanksgiving (so backward! so adorable!). despite our differences, i loved being a part of their festivities and being exposed to something so different from what i did with my family. i bought his parents beautiful ornaments every year. sometimes i wonder if they still use them.

for me, the holiday sadness comes with having most of that magic and sparkle and ritual left in the past. it’s nothing anybody does intentionally – it’s just growing up. i do my own tree now, very different from my mom’s – it’s more dr. seuss than classic christmas. i put up stockings for vindaloo and me, and because i am completely that crazy dog lady, i only fill her stocking after she’s already gone to bed. i’m delighted by how she heads immediately for it in the morning, sniffing out whatever new toys and goodies hide inside.

slowly but surely, i’m creating my own christmas rituals. they’ll never be what they were when i was a child, but they have meaning all the same.

the sadness is part of it for me. listening to “have yourself a merry little christmas” and reflecting on christmases past, looking at my tree or wrapping presents for my nephews and nieces…it’s one of those moments where happiness and sadness meet in the middle. if i hadn’t been such a lucky child, if we hadn’t had such loving parents and solid christmas traditions of our own, i might not feel the sadness at all. but really, without the sadness, how do you truly know how to measure your happiness?