Greetings, my fellow port swillers!
There’s a throwaway bit in the movie “The Italian Job” in which Mahky-Mahk is playing a little one-on-one basketball with one of his crime team members. As he sets up to drive on the basket, he asks the guy, “You ready? You ready?”
He then makes a feint but immediately backs up, laughingly saying, “You’re not ready.”
I feel the very same way about Christmas from both a temporal and a religious aspect.
I’m not ready.
Prayers that tomorrow’s scrambles make me ready. Both ways.
UPDATE: I should have made it clearer that the source of my unreadiness was a dose the Holiday Blues. (Yes, I still am not quite over the loss of the Mothe.) Tough to get out of bed this morning, but I did it. I’ve been pretty busy since then and it seems to help.
The Port Stands At Your Elbow 
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December 23, 2019 at 9:47 pm
sleepybeth
I’m not ready on any level myself. Last year, I guess I was too deep in the numbness of new grief to really miss my mom. This year, every time I turn around I feel like I’m getting hammered. It’s very challenging to try and focus on the joy of Jesus’ birth when things like breathing take more effort than seems worthwhile.
The kids and I have always somewhat mocked the Charlie Brown “Christmas time is here” song but this year, it feels like a most appropriate soundtrack.
December 23, 2019 at 10:15 pm
Robbo
My dear Sleepy –
Yep, it’s the numbness thing.
I’d thought I’d beat the trauma of the Mothe’s passing back in January, but I realized a couple weeks ago that it’s still lurking.