So far away

Monday, December 19, 2005

So far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

Doesn't help to know you're just time away

Long ago I reached for you and there you stood

Holding you again could only do me good

Oh, how I wish I could

But you're so far away

One more song about moving along the highway

Can't say much of anything that's new

If I could only work this life out my way

I'd rather spend it being close to you

But you're so far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

Doesn't help to know you're so far away

Traveling around sure gets me down and lonely

Nothing else to do but close my mind

I sure hope the road don't come to own me

There's so many dreams I've yet to find

But you're so far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

Doesn't help to know you're so far away

Carole King, "So Far Away"

Vacations are good for what ails you.

I spent the entire day yesterday all grubby, my hair piled up on top of my head, wearing sweat pants and a big Mickey Mouse golf shirt that belonged to Rich.

I power-washed my patio.

I wrapped Christmas presents.

I downloaded more weepy Christmas music.

I wrapped more Christmas presents.

Jacqui and the boyfriend brought home a Christmas tree.

It's huge - takes up just about all of the living room space in my little shoe-box sized home.

And I spent most of my evening decorating said tree - and found myself getting weepy with each ornament that I unwrapped.

Funny how little ornaments can bring back such a rush of memories.

I'm a pack-rat and have kept just about every little holiday decoration that Jacqui made throughout her life. I have paper decorations that she made, ornaments made from clay and paint, little reindeer cutouts with glue and glitter, felt stockings with glued-on cotton piping.

One ornament is a sleigh and reindeer made from construction paper covered in plastic - and depicts Jacqui's definition of Christmas, scrawled across the sleigh in her then-five year old handwriting:

"Christmas is...a music box chiming a sweet tune, It smells like gingerbread coming out of the oven. The sight of a Christmas tree with presents galore. The taste of chocolate cake. I feel the cold wind. And best of all my family is together."

I took one look at her words and basically lost it.

But it was a good cry.

I guess I was crying for the times that have past - for the fact that life really does zip by so quickly - and sometimes can stop on a dime.

Like I said, it was a good cry that made me go back to past Christmas memories.

I thought of all our traditions - Rich could never just "give" a present, there was always a game attached - whether it meant going on a treasure hunt for said gift, or trying to guess what the thing was before ripping off the wrapping paper.

One time he bought me my Fender Strat and amp - the box looked like a crane, a big square with this long protruding wrapped arm. I had no idea what the hell was in that box, and he made me sit and guess for what seemed like forever before opening it.

I remembered how Rich would get Jacqui to keep a secret about my gifts - even when she was just a little bitty thing. One time she accidentally "slipped" and after that he busted her chops, calling her "Blabby Jacqui" - which of course made all three of us bust up laughing.

He'd buy me one gold bangle bracelet every year - and would hide them in different places for me to find. One year, he had one dangling on a branch of our Christmas tree...and I didn't even notice it until he guided me to the tree.

I remembered the things he'd prepare for Christmas dinner (always an elaborate creation), the songs he'd sing around the house in his off-key voice, how he'd grab anything - even a parsley leaf and make believe it was 'mistletoe' just to get a kiss. I thought about how much fun we had putting together and (usually) playing with Jacqui's toys before wrapping them and putting them under the tree after she went to bed...

And we always had to have a "real" tree. Even though they're messy and expensive, Rich refused to buy a fake tree - he loved the smell of pine and now, despite my complaints, Jacqui has continued the tradition.

I also realized just how numb I was last year - and how I was barely functioning on autopilot, going through the motions even though I was emotionally "dead" to everything that was going on around me.

This year is so much different.

It's good to feel again...even if it means some tears every now and then. And it's even better to be alive - mentally, physically - life goes on, and it does so in such a grand way.

I'm looking forward to the weekend...

posted by oren_ishii at 8:10 AM 0 comments