Ponder (Short Story)

Ponder

         While others are going about their merry way this time of year, I sit and ponder the days of yesteryear. I have not noticed how much different my world has become until this holiday season. So many people have gone – either due to death or their own personal reasons. Few have stayed, some were gained. The twists and turns of life that brought us all together. Should I sit here and live with regret? I look at the fine red wine before me. Sitting in my empty house. Looking around at the pictures on the wall. The frames hang poorly, slightly crooked on the wall. It’s funny what we take for granted. We don’t pay attention to anything anymore. We sacrifice too much soul up material items, we don’t sit back and really appreciate what was around us at one point in time. At least, not until it’s too late and nothing is left but a mere memory. 

          The echoing of voices and laughter from many years ago fill my mind. The music, the food, the smell of cookies. The tale of Saint Nick and the presents beneath the tree. The wonder and imagination each child has – should still remain in us as we grow older. Imagination and wonder doesn’t equal immaturity. It equals life. Depression in adults is at it’s high, and we allow it. A creative soul is seen as insanity. Yet a greedy soulless individual is seen as sanity. We are the reason we’re so pathetic. Allowing our minds to be altered. Not sitting back and enjoying the friends and family that are good to us. No, we spend too much time focusing on the negatives. Which equal deep thought, and deep thought makes a situation a hundred times worse than if we look at the facts. 

     As a kid, I despised Saint Nick. I didn’t want a strange man to be coming into my house to give me toys. I already had so many toys. I didn’t need anymore. Give them to the poor. Been generous when I was a child. In fact, a majority of my childhood I would play with toys and friends of the imaginary kind! I would be climbing up vast mountains! Writing tales of a young woman named Becky taking a train across America in search of a wanted criminal! Oh the joys of childhood were in my hands whether creepy Saint Nick snuck into my house or not! I kept that vision to this day! Writing tales and songs. Feeling music and inspiration from the universe around me. Oh, but no! You must grow up! 

    I refuse to grow up. I will always have that child in my heart. That child that would snitch Christmas Cookies with my grandfather at three in the morn. The child who was obsessed with the Grim Reaper on the 1938 version of ‘A Christmas Carol’. The child who yearns to be in the realm of music and imagination because that is where my soul belongs! The ticking of the clock interrupts my thoughts as I sit here. A cat meows from beneath the tree and I give out a smile. “You coming to bed?” My lover asks from a room down the hall. “In a minute.” I look out at the falling snow. Each snow flake a glimpse into Holiday Memories. “Thanks for the memories.” I say to myself, holding up the glass of wine. “Cheers, and happy new year.” I know the memories heard me. I know they appreciate the acknowledgment. I got up picking up the kitten and heading to the bedroom. Time to have sugar plums and fairies dancing in my head. 

R.I.P. to those that are no longer with us on the holiday season.

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