A “Christmas Letter’ to my readers


Happy Memorial Day to my readers.  I understand this day is not easy to face, due to our losses, but if you can look upon the bright side, if only for a moment and remember what it stands for:


Given to us by the sacrifices of those we love, and will always love.  Thank you for laying down your life so that I could live in freedom.


StoryofMyLifetheBlog.blogspot.com, writer, Jenni has given us this Monday this assignment:

“A letter to your readers.”


Dear readers,

I have wanted to write a Christmas letter for years, but gift wrapping, baking and traipsing those decked out halls of the mall-o-rama’s have always kept me from my personal promise.  So why don’t I just write that sucker today.  I’ll plaster it with details I’ve left out of the earlier 25 days of writing that Jenni has thrust upon us. (Once upon a time my oldest daughter got the hankering, but in the end I think she chickened out.  Her point was to write one, poking fun at all of our mishaps, missed opportunities and what she called, “telling the truth of our sorry, less-than-spot like perfectness, wishing to send it to those whose lives showed far greater promise and happiness than what had occurred within the walls of ‘her’ prison.)  Now, I’m not one to hinder my children from expressing themselves, I rather encourage it, but I refuse to follow it on Facebook for fear that I will unravel at the seams and throw myself in front of the nearest passing vehicle.  (It’s okay to ridicule mama, just remember, one day you may find yourselves wearing these same pair of shoes.  Tread carefully, what goes around, comes around….and that snake? he’s there to bite.)
I promise not to embellish the hell out of this idea I’ve got going on here inside my brain.  Truth be told, I’m a sucker for a Christmas letter.  I enjoy hearing from friends, and they know me well enough, hopefully, to know that it is not how great their life is, it is that they exist and are still part of my world.  (I love you, chums!  I love those letters, and after you read this one, well, consider that you now are a proud owner of a first edition.  Hold onto it, one day I may sign it and you can sell it on ebay to the foreign prince of the country currently seeking money from your distant relative.)
I’ m going for the truth or consequences approach:
In my preteen years I had visions of becoming a beauty queen.  My hopes were dashed when I fell off of my bike (age 10) while trying to keep up with my brother as he careened around the curve at Folsom Field, heading toward the ‘home plate’ of home over off of Fuller Court.  Bubba Joe-Fred ‘lied’ to my mother about my screams for help.  Seems I ran into a rock on the side of the curb and then the curb, itself. Two broken teeth, one being a front tooth.  (“Smile pretty, the camera will now take your picture!”)
Moving into my twenties I secured a position with a telecom company and for some unknown reason they invested time and talent into my career.  I wound up being promoted into management.
A few months later my husband was promoted to a new position within an insurance company.  It was then that he was asked to transfer from Texas to Little Rock, Arkansas.  One of us was making more income, but that was decided to become a moot point.  Only one of us had a college educate.  Period. End of chapter.
Somehow I awoke and found myself in my thirties.  I danced around working for a few insurance companies, because with that management position behind me, and no college degree, it seemed like it might pan out to be the panacea I was in search of. I awoke one morning while walking down the hallway of the skyscraper of one of those insurance companies.  A neighboring office worker, employed by a division of a defense company, asked if I enjoyed working across the hall from her. ? . (Was it that obvious in my sleepwalking that the insurance company left me less than thrilled/thrilling?)  At some point we decided to coördinate our lunch hour.  Two weeks later I am working at a desk, right across from her, managing an account, maintaining inventories, billings and installs of computer systems.  Nine months later and the particular division of Raytheon dissolved the contract.  Down the road, around the corner, and very few of us can even recall a company that was once known as Eastern Airlines, (that contract item).  Well, I’ d been enjoying this computer inventory stuff, so much so, that I started selling myself to the few remaining Raytheon employees who had yet to clear their desks and head to whatever came next for them.  I cornered one of the managers and asked for five minutes of his time.  Pleading, and explaining that computers excited me, and I wanted to continue learning all that I could.   Did he know, where, or with whom I might talk to that could/would listen to my ‘sell’?  He excused himself for a few minutes and returned, asking me to get myself, el-pronto over to the RCA field offices at the Tulsa airport.  (I was headed somewhere, little did I know I would encounter the Mechanical Pencil Maniacal Man, but that was, and is okay.  Learning about computers in 1980 when you are not college educated is a rather NICE thing to have happen to you.)  ;)
Forty.  Built our dream home.  Hubby was phased out of two jobs in four years.  Four years in, and we now decide its time to sell our dream house.  We move south, taking up residency in my husbands native state of Texas.  Job opportunities and career advancement appeared more hopeful.  That did become a reality, for him,  although a difficult one for me to adjust to, especially when Texas was about the last place I wanted to relocate to.  It’s too hot, too humid, and does not get cooler as I age.  (I plan to move to Flagstaff, Arizona, soon.)
Somehow I turned 50.  Saw my oldest and my youngest girls graduate college.  Joy of joy.  The greatest of joys!
Last summer I turned 60.  I’m not as spunky as I once was, but I am so much smarter than I ever thought I could, or would be.  None of it comes from reading those books, Bonnie, advised me to dive into.  Well, wait a minute, I have to retract that.  I’m more than positive that it impacted me with wisdom, although the truest form of wisdom comes from living through a life that unravels and gets knitted back together, forcefully, and in due time, and then falls apart all over again.  Sometimes we salvage what we think is important and sometimes we grow up and know when to let go.  I’m at that letting go stage.  
I am on the threshold of something yet to be culminated.  I can feel it within my bones, as arthritic as they are.  I know that my best days are before me.  I will be challenged and I will be tested, but I know one thing:  I will not be defeated. I have learned to appreciate the small things in life.  I’ve come to realize who my real friends are, and who and when I need to call upon them.  I no longer fear darkness, nor do I fear abandonment.  And I no longer care if the Christmas tree lights burn out, the ornaments break and I fail to get all the baking done and delivered. 
Thank you for reading along on this challenge, Jenni, has offered.  I want to apologize to those I have yet to discover, but I never took the speed reading coarse that Evelyn offered.  Chances are it is not high on my list of priorities, either.  I came into this foray having been a food blogger, from here I can’t really say where I will go, but I’ll still be around from time to time.  Grounded by coffee, encouraged by friendships.
May you live a happy life, and when it is not so happy, may you find peace in knowing that every day is a new day and with it, there is hope.
Margie, aka, CoffeeGrounded.

~ by coffeegrounded on May 27, 2013.

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