Her Message From Home

I woke up this morning, a bit later than usual, being that I didn’t go to work today.  I know that I worked yesterday and the last thing I had intended to do today was find myself back in that office.  I knew that I could at least go one day without working. 

I took my customary morning shower and promptly went into the living room afterwards, where the radio just happened to be on.  Maybe this was a bit out of the norm for me, but the only time I typically will go the living room after a shower is during the week, where I usually get dressed and ready for the workday ahead. 

This morning, I did it, maybe reflexively.  Going to work is my normal, even on the weekends.

The radio was on and as has been the case for the entire month of December, the room had been filled with all kinds of Christmas music.  As I’ve written before in this diary, I dislike Christmas music.  But for some reason, this morning I walked into it.  Unknowingly.  Without really thinking about it.  I just did it. 

The song that was playing was the one I have attached to this entry. 

Mom was a huge fan of The Carpenters.  So, when I walk into the living room and hear this song playing, while I don’t necessarily become emotional, I take it as a means of Mom communicating with me.  In my head, I hear her voice, clear as day, as if she were right there next to me.

“Good morning and Merry Christmas.”

Funny enough, I’m getting emotional writing this, which I did not think that I would. 

Interestingly, I don’t become emotional whenever I hear music by The Carpenters, but I guess this morning, I broke just a little when I remembered her, her voice, and how that song, for a brief moment in time, brought her back to life.

In thinking about it further, she was the one who always made Christmas for me what it was as a child and growing up.  She always did what she felt she needed to, to make the day and season what she felt it ought to be for a child.  Sure, she spent money and I guess she would go so far as to go broke and in put herself in debt to do it.  I don’t want to discount that Mom was a loving person and excellent mother.  She did an excellent job raising me and my siblings and none of us ever went without.

You see, Mom always had a tendency to show her love through money.  She would spend money, not because she was concerned of the price tag or because she wanted others to see just how much she spent.  Like me, Mom never cared about how other people saw her.  She couldn’t have cared less.  Money was no object for her.  If she had the money, she would spend it and when it came to the holidays, she would spend her money on her children and ensure that they had gifts to open come Christmas Day.  In this regard, I consider myself to be very fortunate with the way that I grew up.

Enter adulthood.  Many years have passed since I was a child.  Mom is gone now and has been for the past six years.  Maybe in some way, with the way that I give gifts, her memory lives on.  If I have the money, it will be spent.  Like Mom did to me, I show my love for others through my wallet, be it right or wrong.  Around this time of season, money is not an object, in that it doesn’t stand in the way as an obstacle for me.

I spent so much money this holiday season, in an effort to give to those who I value and who matter to me in my life.  Be the gift big or small, the intent is always clear.    

I want to give you something because you deserve it.  Don’t worry about the money, how much it cost me, or whether I could bear it financially.  If I couldn’t do it, I wouldn’t.  Something in my head and heart came to the decision that you deserved this and I wanted to make it happen.    

Mom never batted an eye.  I want to be able to do the same. 

For this holiday season, I believe that I have done that. 

It’s never been about the money and it never is.  That’s not the intent.  It never has been.