In the Sunday morning darkness, I drove to the grocery for the weekly shop, before an 8-a.m. dawn. Bright lights and stars stretched across main street and the colored lights on the Green’s Christmas tree still shone.
Lights reflected in the wet parking lot around the store, and fresh green garlands and wreaths stretched out alongside pieces of tape that mark the pandemic-required six-foot intervals. Inside, nestled amongst the pots of poinsettia, I spotted bunches of red tulips. Instantly I was transported back many years, when in the snowy dark of an Alaska Christmas Eve, the florist delivered a totally unexpected bouquet of red tulips, sent by my father-in-law in Kansas. Red tulips are Christmas for me ever since, one of the small things calling forth thoughts of missing people and times.
So, we have memories and increasing light this week, as we pass the winter solstice, and prepare our distanced festivities in this bleak winter of a hard year.
But no matter the year – maybe because of the year and the daily reminder of the fragility of life – I wish you good cheer, warmth, and light!
Merry Christmas. Thanks for contributing to my perpetual weeping. I so enjoy it.
Well that’s part of the pandemic I guess. My favorite checker at the grocery store asked me about the tulips, and I couldn’t answer for beginning to weep!
Thank you for sharing your story of red tulips for Christmas. It’s a precious memory.
Sent from my iPhone
You are welcome Jane! I also remembered a little further along in the store, when passing a table laden with festive cheeseballs, about the Christmas Eve we all left the room to go to desktop computer and write an email to the older son who was working in Antarctica (email was novel). In our absence the dog Bill ate an entire cheeseball on a lowdown table of pre-dinner snacks!
Wishing you a calm and peaceful Christmas. Thank you again for the masks we are still wearing…. I wonder if we will wear them out? We have others in the rotation, but yours bring a special feeling of protection, enveloped in the caring of friends. Be well! You and Jim, and your dear ones in AK and CA.
Those unexpected Christmas surprises make the best memories. Remember the time Paul and Zoya came up and surprised us by knocking on our front door at 9:00 Christmas morning? Best surprise ever. I am a much bigger fan of red tulips than I am of poinsettias. The light seems to be coming back this morning. At least for a few days. And I got a chuckle then and now at the dog and cheese ball story.
It truly is the little things–like a pot of red tulips. A lovely story! My your Christmas be serene.