Hey angel,

Convince you that you haven't failed?
Why don't you try convincing me that you DID fail? And get ready for a pitched battle because I just read your post 3 times and can't find the failure.

Moms are pressured to pieces to make their Christmas at home look like those pretty tours of the White House. It's like the pressure I feel to smile and look pleasant when they take my photo at the Motor Vehicle Bureau: by now I know I'll come out looking far too frantic to actually drive a car. Meltdowns at Christmas don't mean that we are no good. I plan for my meltdown every year; maybe it's on the way down the chimney right now.

The good news is, it ain't about the $$$ price of the car. We can set that aside for a lil minute. Because you know, a car is a very limited thing; all it can do, at any price, is 1. make noise, and 2. get you from over here to way over there. The price tag of the car doesn't prove love, it doesn't prove your worth, doesn't prove that your husband is or is not there for you, doesn't prove that your kids mean more than you do, doesn't prove that you flunked Christmas.

You mentioned that you were assembling healthy items on a deadline, so my guess (point and laugh if I am wrong) is that these healthy items are all for OTHER people. Now when did the people in your life suddenly develop a severe bath salt deficiency? And sure, I would like to see your poems, and it's great that you are writing and sharing them, but if time is short and there is no time for Kinko's then how about reading them out loud while everyone eats popcorn? Or giving them away next week? And, a little note from Auntie Autumn: are there strings attached to people's responses? Many people are kinda befuddled by poetry because they are afraid they won't Get It, and therefore many people hesitate to really express their feelings when you show them a poem. You sound vulnerable today; if it feels URGENT to distribute those poems, maybe it is because there is some response that you REALLY NEED from other people now, and they honestly may not know that. That may be another reason for going easy on yourself about that Kinko's run.

"Easy for YOU to sit on your tuffet & say that, Autumn! You are not surrounded by disappointed relatives!" anyone might respond. And, anyone would be right. But as Fly Lady says, "When Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." Your family doesn't need a cavalcade of toys and treats. They need a home where you and they can recharge and feel at ease. Sounds like you have a huge backlog of unmet needs, and maybe the price of the car looked like a way to cash in on meeting a few of them all at once. But instead, there are small simple things that you can do every day, starting now, to gently gently shift your life to a pattern that feeds you.

The butterfly metaphor is very nice and fruitful: beauty, speed, grace.
But, YOU are SO much more than a butterfly. You're obviously a creative woman.
If you want, let's toss around a few ideas today and tomorrow for how you can lull your soul and get some needs met.

A

...there is NO failure; only failure to learn.


And never worry about being X'd...we're all here to name you whenever you feel the Echthroi. (I LOVE that book!)

Unyquity

I'm glad I have you guys to vent to; to 'talk' to....to listen to....thank you.

After I wrote y'all, it was clearer to me what I needed to do. A few hours after that, I left Christmas eve day, and did the things I knew would make me feel that I HADN"T failed (and you're right...I can't really, but I couldn't even afford the perception.

I got in the bath, meditated, and I'm glad I did. I got VERY quiet (gargling with my sesame oil, I decided to finally "shut up".) I signed to everyone that my voice needed a rest, and I was leaving to Kinkos. My hubby sighed (what's new, she is leaving US with the housework) and I went first and did a small act of kindness (I guess it was for me--there was a little friend of my daughters who had called her to say she was in the hospital and had had her baby girl--I stopped in at the dollar store, made her baby a little gift bag, and took it to her. Just so she would know that she was loved. And then I stood and watched the baby through the glass, and tried to remember what Christmas is all about.

Then I went to Kinkos. And spent the next 5 hours there. And though I had to 'recyle' old poems, and though I put them in frames from the thrift store, I DID it. Kinko's-FedEX was nice and quiet, they were so UNbusy, that they helped me whenever I asked, and you wouldn't believe how little they charged me. So I felt like I was in flow with the universe. Hey, it wasn't perfect, but that butterfly poem is in it's frame, and at the end, I dug through my poems, printed a few old ones, and gave a couple iou's for new ones. Didn't do it all, but did enough to satisfy my need to share my gift.

Then I got home....the one Christmas tradition I love is we sing at an old folks home every Christmas eve...we don't have family nearby (no one closer than 600 miles, most 24 hours away) I was pooped so I took a nap, fully dressed thank goodness. I woke up in time to don my reindeer antlers and brush my hair, and go with my husband, five kids, and one girlfriend, to carol. Thank goodness! Cause unbeknown to me, my grandpa passed on thousands(?) of miles away in a nursing home while we were singing. When I got home, I ate, went to bed, and when I woke up at midnight there was a note explaining my sister had called, and grandpa had died and exactly what time. You see, I lived with my grandpa for a year when I was 5...he never had any children of his own, just step children (my mom and aunt). So I was the only little child he'd ever raised, and he loved me very much. I don't know--it gave me such a good feeling to know I was at the right place, comforting some other old, lonely person, who COULD have been my grandpa..he has been 'out of it' for years and years, so....I bagged my gifts (literally--I bought giant bags at the dollar store earlier) got back to 'bed' by 2 am, and said 'goodbye' to my grandpa. And when I heard my hubby wandering at 6 am.,I'd been lying there 'writing' in my head... I called out, "R--please bring me paper and a pen". He did. And heres what I'd been 'thinking' lying there, early Christmas morning. My husband actually read it after I'd typed it up and ASKED me to share it with my children after we read Luke 2 Christmas morning (we do that before presents) And his eyes were wet. Here it is:(I hope it will cut and paste)I edited enough for anonimity..

Ah George Joseph M.....
What a perfect gift
God gave you for Christmas—
To release you
from your shell of a body.

I can picture you,
rejoicing
that your keen mind
is clear once more;
and your kind heart
and sense of humor,
even at this moment,
are bringing smiles of delight
to your friends and loved ones
who, having passed on before,
are meeting you there.

I am so happy for you
that you got what you wished for
for Christmas,
and I am grateful for the gifts
you have given me in my life;
the gifts of love and attention
from a warm hearted Grandpa with so much to give,
Thank you Grandpa George,
You gave me the true gifts
every child longs for--
an abundance of love, attention, and time.
I remember riding on your shoulders,
Holding your already shiny bald forehead
while we roller skated down the sidewalk,
(and grandma fussed).
I remember you reading me, not stories,
(which I’m sure you did)
but articles from the “Art Linkletter Encyclopedia”
and each week we picked up a new volume
at the grocery store.
And you were the kindest audience
a performing child could ever had,
as you listened to me sing and dance
to my little record player.

And then, you let me go,
returning me to my family,
stronger, more resilient,
backed by your love
so I could face the lions, tigers,
and dragons of life.
You returned me to my family,
the place you knew I needed to be….
rather than take me with you to Germany…
and I cried, broken hearted (for I’d eavesdropped)
that you would leave me behind,
even if for my best good.

Now you go on,
and, I, wiser and older,
no broken heart here.
I smile to think
how happy you are now
back to being your true self once more,
your shell of a body left behind.
I am happy for YOU.
It is Christmas Day,
and the babe whose birth, life, and gift we celebrate
has now wrapped you in his love—
the perfect present!

Merry Christmas Grandpa,
what beautiful timing—
and I too
am thankful
for knowing you,
and for knowing this season that gives us all peace
and grants us the blessing
of a joyful Christmas day.

Your loving granddaughter,
Paula J... F.....
December 25th, 2005

(PAUSE)


But time never lets me....By 7:30 I had tried to email it to three of my four sisters.....with no success. And when I was sitting in Church for an hour I held Grandpa, and my poem in my heart, and thanked God for his gift of comfort to me.

And by 5pm or so that night, I had lost my peace, gotten a bit snippy, and was exhausted. Only one perceptive daughter (17) glared at me and came over and said quietly "Mom,why do you look like you are about to cry?"

that would be
"the rest of the perils of pj"
to be continued.
my throat chakra is all choked up. It's about 5 am, and I'm going to go back down to bed and lie there for a while. Actually, I'm probablygoing to go down and cry. Because my sadness isn't for losing grandpa (well, a little) it's cause I am a little kid inside, and that little kid didn't get what she wanted for Christmas(not to "spend" a lot of money, and it was weird how he 'gave' me what he 'thought' I wanted....and the little girl inside also got her childish feelings hurt too--
if you got through all that...thanks. let me know if you want the rest of the Christmas day story and fallout of today. I'd better go deep breath and meditate...cause apparently there are a lot of challanges ahead of me today.
pj