On the sixth day of Christmas I wait for a winter storm, learned that candle light service was cancelled and our dinner tomorrow that was supposed to be a lunch in now a dinner again, and our guest is going to be my husband’s good friend. His daughter’s car is not moving and with the storm coming in I’d have preferred her to take a rain check and stay safe.
So I’ve spent the day curled up in bed, sharpening my colored pencils (I have over 200) and I colored in a mythical adult coloring book. One page took me pretty much all evening. Tomorrow is no different with the exception of my husband is going to a breakfast with his best friend at the American Legion, I don’t have to start cooking anything until around 11am or noon. And I’ll probably stay away from the laptop until I hunker down for the night and color some more.
Coloring therapy I call it. It’s good to relieve stress. It keeps my mind from wandering places I don’t want to go this time of year. It’s a way of easing life’s unwanted factors into a lull even if for a couple hours.
I did get a phone call from one of my cousins this afternoon. She wanted to give me something so I met her out in the front of my house and she gave me something wrapped. I did peek and saw it was a Yankee Candle (Warmer) and I opened the top and breathed in a scent so familiar it was like walking into my mother’s apartment. Apples! I started to wrap it back up and began thanking her when she told me to look at it. I unwrapped it and it had my mother’s picture in place of the Yankee Candle logo with the image of the apples. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I thanked her from the bottom of my heart. It was an unexpected gift that went straight to my heart. The best Christmas gift I could have gotten regarding my mom.
I don’t believe that candle will ever get lit… if it does it will be only on her birthday, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The three days of the year that she and I spent together and enjoyed reminiscing, watching movies and filling up on food. I literally now have the light of my mother’s soul with me when ever I do light it (again IF) or open it and smell the apples that she would devour or call me up and ask if I could get her a bag. I’m not sure if my cousin knows just what that gift means to me. I really don’t have the words to express it, and I don’t have the words to thank her enough or properly.
That candle is a part of me, a part of everyone whose life my mother ever touched. She is and always will be someone her family and friends hold dear to their hearts and will always remember her smile, laugh and her sometimes quick wit and honesty.