Standing in line for our appointment with Santa, I began thinking about how many people flow through that line on a daily basis and how exhausting it must be for the "Santa." I began wondering aloud to Dave as to whether
"there was more than one Santa that worked there? Because we always see the same one year after year...so, do you really think he's the only one? I mean! Can you imagine what long days those must be to sit with all these..."
Shush! Dave cut me off and pointed out that our children - and everyone else's - could hear my wonderings.
Sometimes I forget to filter my words as they travel from my mind and out of my mouth.
"Mother. Of. The. Year." Dave said to me in his low, announcer-like voice that I have heard so many times.
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| Guess who hated our visit to Santa? She kicked herself over and was OUT OF THERE! |
And since I was on a roll, I decided to invite the girls to come with me to donate a plant to a couple of very elderly women who live in an eldercare center and who spend their holidays alone.
As we left, Ella pointed out that "Adelaide's skin was.....funny. And so was Abigail's."
I explained to Ella that "their skin was wrinkled. That they were very old. That someday, too, mine would be like theirs. And, as a matter of fact, Ella and Sophia would someday have wrinkled skin just like that. It's normal. That's what happens. We are all born. We are all babies. Then we all grow up to be adults. Then we become old and have wrinkles. And then we die. That is the process of life."
They sat staring at me.
Woops! Damn it! I was just trying to normalize the cycle of life and walked right into the whole
"Are we really going to die? You? Me? Will we die in Lakeville? Where will we go when we die?"
At home, later that night, we told daddy about our visit to the eldercare facility and making new friends. Ella tried to explain wrinkled skin to daddy, but ultimately gave up and looked at him and said
"Adelaide and Abigail were so cute."
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