Christmas Eve Ramblings.
Christmas Eve rambling..
I am truly blessed.
The kids are back in their own little universes (IE: their rooms) and I’m sitting here contemplating. Some of you may remember several months ago when I was so upset about a guitar I’d purchased being broken.
It’s just a guitar..just an inanimate object, but somehow it meant so much more to me.
I don’t know exactly how, but it came to represent some piece of my own personal struggle. I left my ex-husband 8 years ago with two young children and little more then a trunk full of clothes.
I hadn’t worked full time in 9 years.
Buying a simple instrument came to represent my fulfilling aspirations that perhaps I wasn’t even aware of that I had when I made that difficult decision. When my daughter accidentally broke it, I can’t even explain how much it hurt me inside to see the splintered wood. It’s perhaps silly to place so much emotional weight on an old and used guitar. But in the course of things it came to represent so much more: the potential to do and be things I’d once thought lost to me. Things I CAN do if I really care enough to put the needed love and effort into them…
Tonight my son gave me my Christmas gift.
He has lovingly repaired, repainted and restored the broken guitar; entirely by his own hand.
And I’m completely overcome. What an amazing gift.
I am truly blessed.
The kids are back in their own little universes (IE: their rooms) and I’m sitting here contemplating. Some of you may remember several months ago when I was so upset about a guitar I’d purchased being broken.
It’s just a guitar..just an inanimate object, but somehow it meant so much more to me.
I don’t know exactly how, but it came to represent some piece of my own personal struggle. I left my ex-husband 8 years ago with two young children and little more then a trunk full of clothes.
I hadn’t worked full time in 9 years.
Buying a simple instrument came to represent my fulfilling aspirations that perhaps I wasn’t even aware of that I had when I made that difficult decision. When my daughter accidentally broke it, I can’t even explain how much it hurt me inside to see the splintered wood. It’s perhaps silly to place so much emotional weight on an old and used guitar. But in the course of things it came to represent so much more: the potential to do and be things I’d once thought lost to me. Things I CAN do if I really care enough to put the needed love and effort into them…
Tonight my son gave me my Christmas gift.
He has lovingly repaired, repainted and restored the broken guitar; entirely by his own hand.
And I’m completely overcome. What an amazing gift.