Notes From The Asylum

Tomorrow, I will shove two fifteen pound birds into my oven, and officially begin the day of my Family Christmas Party. In the past, I have been threatened with commitment to an asylum, crazy as a loon with the to-do list still incomplete on the big day, and my sensitive nervous system on overload. I mean, eyes-rolling-back-in-my-head crazy, shrill voice screeching out orders for my beleaguered family to do, so my house, the meal, THE DAY could be perfect.


Not this year. Not this time. I'm scary peaceful. I'm so focused on the fact that my FAMILY will be here, here in my beautiful home, with ME. I get to listen to their voices, their stories, but especially their laughter. As a group, we laugh loud and long, and hug each other a lot. A really lot! That is what has finally become important to me...if everything else fails, there's always Papa John's Pizza or Burger King. If someone doesn't like creamed corn, I have a can of string beans to heat up. Bottom line is, I have finally realized that I CANNOT control or manipulate someone else's feelings...especially the way THEY feel about ME. I cannot decorate them into admiring me, I cannot cook them into loving me. And whether they admire or love me, really isn't my business at all. What IS my business, is HOW I love THEM.

DING! Simple, really. And yet, it's taken what seems like forever for me to finally get this concept. Am I gonna look a gift horse in the mouth? No way. I'm just going to continue to breathe and look forward to that first hug from the first beloved family member to grace my threshold.