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Christmas is so weird this year. All the things I want aren't things. So DH is going with yarn.

DrBooa said this and I found it to be so thoroughly true that I thought I would give it its own thread.

I, too, have no desire for "things" this year. There is very little in the way of physical objects that would increase my sense of joy or wonder or serenity or happiness.

Instead, I want to see my daughter's eyes light up when I turn on the Christmas tree for the first time. I want my husband to hold me when I fall asleep. Every night, not just the nights we're together on the weekends. I want to make dinner for my whole family.

I want to feel healthy again, after weeks of anything-but.

I want laughter.

I want to smell snow in the air and share a snowball fight with my stepsons. I want to lie out in the grass on a summer night and point out constellations to the youngest, who still thinks it's okay to do that with a grownup.

I want to see my dad retire and catch up on all that yard work he says he's put off. (The man has the nicest yard on the planet. Who knows what else he would like to do!) I want to see my mom put aside her worries about her heart and enjoy life.

I want my brother to find a job and not be afraid he's going to be out on the street. I want my other brother's Big Event to go well and to have the outcome he hopes for. I want my sister to do well in her sheltered workshop, where she puts covers for Harleys into boxes. And various other simple tasks. And watches movies when there isn't enough work to do.

I want the satisfaction of knowing that I helped the people I work with to do a better job of the important work that they do, keeping a huge research hospital functioning even on the worst days when everything, absolutely everything, breaks.

I want to hear carols and see beautiful lights. Not because they're corny, but because they're genuinely beautiful.

I want to see icicles and a warm fire and friends and family. I want to feel the comfort of feeling that God is close. I want the awe of knowing the Universe is vast beyond my most amazed and stunned comprehension.

I want to get my daughter a puppy, the one she told Santa she wants, and know that I cannot. I want to have a baby, the one that I talked to my husband about, and know that I cannot. I want my family all in one household, one where a puppy or a baby would make some kind of sense.

Indeed, all the things I want aren't things.

So I asked for a rain coat. In it, I will be dry as I walk in a spring downpour, splashing in puddles and trying to remember the words of "Singing in the Rain." Maybe next year we can try for the puppy.
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