An Unusual

I have to admit it has been an interesting day.

And also one I can now admit I dreaded.

As the pinnacles of age increase, our Book of Life does not include many more “firsts.”

Nor has mine

Or so I thought, which is why I dreaded Christmas Day alone.

I had never spent Christmas alone, I reflected, as the warnings of blizzard kept ringing throughout the week.

In youth I only remember crowds, everywhere in Hells Kitchen, and not exclusively in our tenement.

I never sat in a classroom without at least 49 fellow students and frequently, a few more.

Sometimes there was standing room only in Church especially at the 11 o’clock High Mass, resplendent with choir.

Rather hard to believe, I admit, in 2022, but quite true.

So the prospect of spending December 25 in the year of Our Lord 2022 alone was ominous.

I wrapped the gifts early on Christmas Eve choosing optimism rather than depression. I knew my devoted family would find a way to drive over the snowbound roads and bring me to their home.

Yet I could not deny the falling snow as I awakened fitfully during the night and looked out the window.

An earlier weather alert had promised an end to the blizzard before daylight, but I was learning sometimes even the internet is wrong.

And so it was.

The Christmas morning was bleak with windows crusted with ice and not a car moving.

Realizing there was no choice I immediately sent an email alerting loved ones not to venture out, or even try.

It would be insanity to fight Mother Nature this year, I told them, and promised we would celebrate at another time.

Still the prospect of being totally alone for Christmas seemed ominous.

Yet it has turned out to be quite different.

I have not only survived but, I believe, this unexpected chapter of another “First,” has provided a valuable lesson for an aging woman.

The larder was full, and so I indulged with a traditional breakfast (once served as a newlywed) including not one but two quite large cups of dark black coffee.

Then, leisurely savoring the delights of a kouign-amannn, an annual Yule gift from the dedicated California branch of our family.

My morning was fortified with the Christmas carols of yore once heard at the long remembered and yes crowded 11 o’clock High mass. The recording was an instant trip back in time to the innocence and belief of youth.

As I listened, I opened two boxes that had arrived earlier in the week from my favorite daughter, who has never forgotten to mail early.

Each included an item I had not needed, but desperately wanted. And I was in awe of her choices and thoughtfulness.

Later that afternoon (admittedly after an indulgent nap) there were not only phone calls, but a FaceTime visit with a recently wed Granddaughter.

Soon I noticed twilight approaching slowly through the ongoing snow, and I knew the dreaded isolation of loneliness had been avoided as I awaited another call from the west coast

And I humbly realized there are more chapters in the Book of Life than mankind can ever imagine

And each provides another lesson in gratitude.