Fall was ushered in with a lot of activity. We took mom back to Blair for a Stricklett family reunion. The old house on the hill was full of relatives, from near and far. We spent a week-end together…and all congregated at the small church for services on Sunday, where my grandmother was a charter member. Many of us had gone there over the years as children visiting grandma….and later, for her funeral. The floors creaked and the walls seemed to speak now and then. The church was old but still had lots of life in her.

The old organ pumped out hymns and the sun came through the familiar stained glass windows. As a child this church had looked immense. Now I was surprised at how small it looked. The minister was practically eye-ball to eye-ball to the congregation and the choir loft rose steeply behind. Time changes perspectives in more ways than just the mental process. I remember standing by grandma many Sunday’s and hearing her sing the hymns with a crackly voice….now I sing but my voice is no longer “choir material”either. The years take their toll on each of us….in due time.

Returning home, the routine was predictable. I worked my three days and then had four to complete all of my commitments and chores. Our friends, the Coddington’s came to visit, George came from Shawnee, Becky and her family were in and out … aunt Mardelle called to say they were selling out at Kimberling City, MO. and moving back to Omaha. They were both in ill health and the time had come to move closer to doctor’s, medical facilities and family. Most of their combined family lived in Omaha. Uncle Emil was the last of dad’s brothers. Six had preceded him in death, including dad.

George, Barbara and John were coming for an early Thanksgiving this year so I made preparations ahead. The three of them arrived on Saturday, November 20th. We had all the family together and it was nice. Very seldom all three of them could make the same date so it was a special time. George was first to leave, on Monday but John and Barbara didn’t have to leave until Wednesday….I had to work the same day so after they left I made a quick change. On Thanksgiving day, mom and I worked on decoupage’ making gifts for Christmas. It was a nice quiet day and we had lots of “leftovers” to warm up at meal time.

The month of December is always a flurry of activity. The cards, the shopping, wrapping, candy and cookie making, finishing handmade gifts (just under the wire) and decorating the house and outside. Whew!! It makes me dizzy to think about it. Reason being that it is almost that time again and I’m looking at the same list. We were blessed this Christmas because, again, we were all together. That’s what it’s all about….just being together.

I have always been a stickler for hand written notes in cards at Christmas. It made me half crazy but I managed every year to send off 80-100 cards. It may sound excessive but to me, it was much more personal than the generic page copied off a word processor. I clung to the silly belief that other’s would appreciate my martyred effort. So I kept on, year after year, until last year. With our own business and a third family, I had to throw in the towel. It was either sink or swim. I swam. I doubt that anyone noticed or cared….it became a welcome tool to accomplish an impossible task. Like others, I decided it was better than not hearing from us at all.

As the year wound down we took the tree apart and packed it away again. We counted our blessings after the past two years of anxious moments and long stretches of medical problems…..being away from home. We were thankful our families were all ‘present and accounted for‘….all well and all working. When the boxes were put away and the lights turned off we went to bed and slept away the old year…..woke up to a new one. A clean slate of days ahead….365-of them to use or to waste. The choice would be ours but the number of them to be granted was God’s alone. I like that.

Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther