I’ve been sleeping with the window open under piles of blankets. The cold air does something good for me, makes me burrow deeper into my cocoon until I emerge as something else. I have missed writing on this blog a couple of days this month because there are some days I just don’t know what to say or if I should say it out loud. Silence is sometimes necessary.
The holidays are here, and it’s not even December yet. We are celebrating big this year because we need to celebrate big this year. It doesn’t mean big amounts of presents – just big amounts of magic. We put up the Christmas tree and hung the stockings yesterday. The boys are completely taken with the tree and the lights and all the ornaments. Every time they wake up or we come home, they run to the tree. Charlie has formed deep relationships with many of the ornaments already. Simon likes to grab two lights and hit them together, making them “clap.” We listen to Christmas music a lot and there are Christmas music dance parties. This afternoon Roy danced with Simon and I danced alone while Charlie ran in circles around us. We all ended up running in a circle, chasing each other and also being chased. “Again!” Simon yelled when we stopped, dizzy and tired.
If only, if only you could have a moment to redo again and again.
We took the boys to the Parade of Lights tonight. Both Charlie and Simon thought it was wonderful. They loved the lights and music and were completely captivated by one float that was a train, blowing bubbles out of its smokestack. They both held their arms up to the sky to catch the bubbles but not a one drifted towards us. Instead the bubbles just went wherever the wind blew them, leaving all the small children in attendance gaping in wonder. I think it’s their elusiveness that makes them so beautiful. They slip away so easily and if you manage to catch one, it usually pops. Some things aren’t meant to be held. Some things aren’t meant to belong to anyone. It’s best to just admire them from afar, respecting their fragility.