It constantly amazes me that some people don?t view life as a balance. You can call it Karma, you can call it luck, you can call it the struggle of good and evil ? but whatever you call it things always seem to balance out in the end. What amazes me even more is that most of the people that do accept it view it as a good thing.
Christmas, as those who are acquainted with me know, is a tough time of year. There are a lot of memories, good and bad, competing for control of my emotions. I guess in the end it?s a kind of balance. Not the kind where I?m left neutral, but the kind where there?s an equal number of bad and good emotions. I suppose, all things considered, it?s about the best I could hope for.
With fair regularity something happens to tip the scales one way or another. I find my elderly father sitting in a chair with the dog gazing at the tree inside, and the snow outside, and telling him about my mom (gone eighteen Christmases now). Tip down. My daughter stands up to her mom, and as a result is going to get to fly out for the entire Christmas break. Tip up ? balance.
It snows. Not the wet, melt as it lands snow, and not the light dusting falls that manage to screw up traffic without actually covering anything in beauty or fun. No it actually SNOWED here, for the first time in 28 years. Eight inches of winter wonderland, perfect for playtime. I built a couple snow walls, for snowball fights. I even started building a castle out of snow blocks. After all, this will be the first white Christmas of my daughter?s life. The first time I?ve really gotten to play in the snow with her. Sure she?s thirteen now, but she retains a lot of playful child and I know we?re going to have a blast. Big tip up.
It snows. Not just the winter wonderland snowfall that makes the world anew to old eyes and turns a driveway into an Olympic sled track, but the continually falling overwhelming snow that hinders movement?restricts travel?cancels flights.
Cancels flights.
Cancels flights.
The castle will have to remain an unfinished pile of blocks, for there is no castle without a princess to inhabit it. The snowballs will have to stay snowpiles, as they won?t make and throw themselves. The winter remains, but the wonder?that?s gone now. Merry fucking Christmas.
Tip down.
Balance.
Christmas, as those who are acquainted with me know, is a tough time of year. There are a lot of memories, good and bad, competing for control of my emotions. I guess in the end it?s a kind of balance. Not the kind where I?m left neutral, but the kind where there?s an equal number of bad and good emotions. I suppose, all things considered, it?s about the best I could hope for.
With fair regularity something happens to tip the scales one way or another. I find my elderly father sitting in a chair with the dog gazing at the tree inside, and the snow outside, and telling him about my mom (gone eighteen Christmases now). Tip down. My daughter stands up to her mom, and as a result is going to get to fly out for the entire Christmas break. Tip up ? balance.
It snows. Not the wet, melt as it lands snow, and not the light dusting falls that manage to screw up traffic without actually covering anything in beauty or fun. No it actually SNOWED here, for the first time in 28 years. Eight inches of winter wonderland, perfect for playtime. I built a couple snow walls, for snowball fights. I even started building a castle out of snow blocks. After all, this will be the first white Christmas of my daughter?s life. The first time I?ve really gotten to play in the snow with her. Sure she?s thirteen now, but she retains a lot of playful child and I know we?re going to have a blast. Big tip up.
It snows. Not just the winter wonderland snowfall that makes the world anew to old eyes and turns a driveway into an Olympic sled track, but the continually falling overwhelming snow that hinders movement?restricts travel?cancels flights.
Cancels flights.
Cancels flights.
The castle will have to remain an unfinished pile of blocks, for there is no castle without a princess to inhabit it. The snowballs will have to stay snowpiles, as they won?t make and throw themselves. The winter remains, but the wonder?that?s gone now. Merry fucking Christmas.
Tip down.
Balance.
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