‘Twas the Day Before Christmas and…

‘Twas the day before Christmas and here is my say —
Rhymes are my therapy, my means to play…

And all through my house, indeed through my mess,
I would like something stirring, I dare to confess!

The silence, instead, though a comfort at times,
Now leaves me struggling, even for rhymes,

Not nearly as silly as typically found,
Reality has me just too tightly bound.

I might wish to not ponder all on our plates,
This past year of losses and weird, twisted fates,

Social justice unrest, so long overdue,
And crazed 45’s sick attempts at a coup,

With troubles for many just all but ignored,
And “normal” folk gobsmacked and quite simply floored,

As pandemic politics took up the space,
Where DATA and HELP should have been in their place.

And yet I must offer my words beyond tatters,
Mentioning now these more human-scaled matters,

A neighbor who kindly runs errands for me,
With contactless hand-offs, we both never see,

An old friend — so far! — with whom I can chat,
Reminisce, have a giggle, recall this or that,

Text when “alone” is annoying as hell,
Though it is what it is, my way to stay well.

And yet… at my place, I could do with some laughter!
My kids with their noise rising up to the rafter!

Their whoops and their hollers and teasing galore,
Which, as a mom, I admit I adore.

The sounds of rejoicing just being together,
Regardless of December’s trickiest weather,

Is everything in this cold season, ’tis true,
My kiddos, their smiles, my heart’s very glue.

With memories of my young men as wee boys,
Me, wrapping gifts as they slept — books and toys —

Knowing them safe and well snuggled in bed,
As my lists, through the night, danced around in my head,

Determined I was, to provide a good home,
The sense of it carried wherever they roam,

To offer the lessons that ground and delight,
To serve when “real life” would require a fight,

To model the ways that we learn to be strong,
Finding purpose in love, in a place to belong.

And though I can’t help but recall other days,
My kids as young teens with their sleep-in-late ways,

Their Christmas, a good one, despite those lean years,
My worries (yes, money), behind-the-scenes tears,

While hoping my love would serve up mitigation,
And holiday pleasures, not to mention vacation,

Well, for them anyway; for parents? Hell, no!
Our jobs (and our worries) always GO GO GO.

I hope my young men are distanced and masked,
As Fauci and others consistently asked,

I hope they are socially distanced as needed,
Not “sharing air,” with precautions well heeded.

I can’t even nag — though I tried, via text,
(Did they roll their eyes? Or are they perplexed,

That I might consider them not being smart?
Not spreading virus? Not doing their part?)

For now, on this morn, before Christmas arrives,
Filled with dismay for all the lost lives,

For the trauma (I’m certain) of doctors and nurses,
For hospital staff caught up in the curses

Of Covid continuing its ugly rage,
This scourge that destroys, that seeks to engage,

Through a hug or a kiss or just talk ’round the table,
Its horrible spikes, all too willing and able,

To catch us off-guard; so sneaky and quick!
Don’t give it a chance! Don’t get yourself sick!

But that, as we know, well, it’s quite up to us —
Wear those masks! Social distance! And don’t make a fuss!

Adhere — won’t you please? — to these simple rules,
To keep families safe, to reopen schools,

To tender some hope that for those without pay,
Yes — like me! — in the future, on some happy day,

Will find jobs returned, small business, to flourish,
Touch between loved ones, its power to nourish,

ALL of this possible if we can focus,
On science, on reason, and not hocus-pocus!

Vaccinations are good; we have rifts we must heal,
And factions and nations whose pain we can feel;

We have people to feed and to house; this is REAL,
Love thy neighbor — come on — remember that deal?

Enough! (You are thinking) This all feels so weighty,
Meanwhile, today, Dr. Fauci is eighty!

Happy Birthday to him, and grateful we are,
To enjoy the commitment of this science star.

Sentimental? Who, moi? A bit, and I know it,
At the moment okay if I blatantly show it,

Outrage is also no doubt on display,
Toward those who do not value truth and fair play.

So conspiracy theories, begone if you please!
With my final words to you all, only these:

Come next year, this day, let’s all have a cuddle,
Jammed on our couches in holiday’s huddle,

And even this morn, knowing the pleasure,
The heart’s clearest win, the ultimate treasure —

Our children, our friends, a father or mother,
Grateful indeed, for the gift of each other.

 

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• The Importance of Belonging