Christmas- Time Attack

He chased me through the house! “He,” was John, my husband, and with a wrapped up gift in his hand he was saying,” You should open this now! Don’t you want to know what’s in it? Aren’t you curious? I bet you NEED to know. I think you need to know right now!”
I could only take it a few days then I’d relent. The first gift was always a flashlight of some exotic kind. John waited a day then attacked with the second gift. Luckily John bought quality not quantity. By the second week in December all were opened!
John is gone now but he left me with such great memories and flashlights and I realized, looking back, that having nothing to open on Christmas day was wonderful. The ACT of giving was so much more important that the act of receiving!

A Lesson From a Dog and a Squirrel

The dog was only mid- sized, but he pulled his person through the park after the squirrel.
The small fuzzy fellow was chased to a tree and spun around and around and up it as though he was red paint creating a candy cane tree. The dog spun around the trunk pulling her person with her in three shape circles. As the squirrel rested on a high branch, the dog gave an irate bark. The dog’s person steadied herself then she and her dog moved further into the park probably looking for more squirrels.
I like squirrels. I like squirrels very much, but if I had a passion for them as that dog does I’d love life deeper and more profoundly.

A Sweet Chemo Memory

My husband and I were both going through chemo and would look through the cupboards and find nothing we could stand to eat, but John would say, “I think I might be able to eat potato chips,” and I would think of something I thought I might be able to keep down.
We’d rush off to the store, bring the two treasured items home, we’d each eat two bites and we’d each say, “Well, that was okay, but I don’t want any more…ever.” We’d laugh.
What a strange occurrence we faced together. We KNEW John would die within months; we knew I’d recover completely, but for these days we were together; together in misery, humor, love. We were together.