That’s What Christmas is all About, Charlie Brown

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God, and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.”

Merry Christmas everyone!

What is it about you southern girls?

We are a rare breed, one that most don’t really understand. There is something about us that draws attention and fascinates those around us. But why? What is about us that makes us so unique and captivating? Wow, Lucky seems a little vain at the moment. Yeah, well I’ve just noticed that my drawl gets stronger every day, and I’m beginning to seem more and more southern. So let us just say that Lucky is embracing her roots and enjoying what little grace and charm she got from them.

Is it our drawl, that wonderful way words come out all slow and velvety smooth? Is it the way we call everyone things honey, darlin’, dear, and sweetheart without a second thought? Is it the fact we can make small talk about nothing or the way we drop our Gs? I don’t know what it is about us, but I know there must be something. It might be the way we make everyone feel welcome regardless, or it could be our smiles. Maybe it’s the accent and the fact that we can politely tell you that something is wrong, even when we’d rather be rude.

Or maybe it’s in our appearance. Is it perhaps that understated grace and beauty? Is the strand of pearls no southern girl is without? Or is it the fact that we will wear our pearls with jeans and boots. Is it the fact we can make a pair of torn up jeans and a t-shirt look lovely? Perhaps it’s the fact that the beauty seems so natural and easy. It could be the way we have a sort of effortless classy look at times. It’s possibly the way we are not afraid to get our hands dirty and get a little mud on our faces.

Perhaps it is our abilities in the kitchen? I mean we can cook up a storm, many of us, or at least pretend to. And every southern girl can make sweet tea. But I’m pretty sure that’s not what is so intriguing and fascinating about us.

Personally I think it is a combination of many things. I think it might be the drawl, and the way we smile. But I also think it’s our strength and courage. I think it’s the pride in who we are and the fact that we will fight like a cougar for what we love and what we believe in. It’s our hearts and our souls and our spirit. And as I type this I find my accent getting stronger. Funny, it’s something I’m always told I need to tone down. I’m quite proud of my drawl, and I let it show whenever possible. It does not make me stupid, and it does not make me a racist. Southern does not equal stupid, racist, and ignorant.

One year and one week…

That’s how long it’s been since Wallis-san died. It’s hard for me to believe that it has been an entire year since the funeral, since we lost him. I wrote this poem a while back to honor his memory. Death of a Friend was written one afternoon when Wallis-san was on my mind.

You see, he was like a brother, because all of us were like family, very close to each other. We are still a family, a very strange family, but we are missing him. It suddenly hit me today that it has been a year. I remember it all very clearly. The way D–’s voice shook when he told me, the way I fell on my knees and bawled my eyes out. The panicked phone calls to Spoony and J. That terrible feeling that I was going to be sick and couldn’t breathe. I remember the funeral. It was then I realized that we were not invincible as I looked at that casket that held my friend. I needed Spoony  then, more than ever. But he couldn’t be here. As I sit here now I can still see Wallis-san’s grin and hear his laughter as I made a fool of myself. I’d give anything to go back to that day, and change it all. I don’t think there was a note… And I don’t why he didn’t talk to us. We were like family, and we would’ve helped him; we’d have done anything to save him. That wasn’t the Nathan we knew and loved. Something changed him. The Nathan we knew wouldn’t have done it. And for a while I was so mad at him for doing it. C-lyn had the same thought that I did. “Nathan’s too mature to do that. He would know how much it would hurt his friends and family.”

So today I broke down and cried for a while. Partly because I was just thinking and happened to see the date, and partly because we have been planning our Christmas gathering. He won’t be there for the Christmas party; we are all supposed to be there to celebrate our first holiday together. It’s not fair, and it won’t be the same. Not without him there to celebrate. It’s like the fact that he wasn’t there to celebrate the return of Spoony. We toasted him with Dr. Pepper, which seems crazy unless you know the story. You see for the going away party, which took place at the same location as the return party, Wallis-san brought 3 cases of Dr. Pepper because he volunteered to bring drinks and Spoony like Dr. Pepper. And so all we had to drink was Dr. Pepper.

So tonight we are going to Sakura, a Japanese restaurant, for a memorial dinner. I just hope D– and Jon can be there too. If not it will just be a dinner date for Spoony and me. I don’t know which I’d rather have. Right now I just want to go out. I kind of want it to be all of us for a change, because I want to have a night of remembrance. I want to toast Wallis-san and smile. No tears tonight; I promised myself that much.