TheBanyanTree: Ghosts

[Margaret R. Kramer]

They visit with me during the holidays.  I think about them a lot, but
during the holidays is when they make an appearance.  I suppose it’s because
Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s have so many traditions associated
with them and can be the most intense of childhood memories, so it’s natural
for me to invite them to share my holiday time.

These rarely seen guests are the ghosts from my Christmases past.  They are
my mother, my father, my grandparents, friends, and my ex-husband.  I can’t
call any of them to invite them over, but they share in my feast and my good
times.

I thought about them as I ran along the river yesterday.  The river had
areas of ice, but it was mostly open water with some geese flocking to it.
The paths were plowed, but I had to be careful, so I wouldn’t slip on the
packed snow.  The warm air hadn’t arrived yet, so it was chilly running into
the wind.  I wore my undergarments which wick away the sweat, and by golly,
they do keep me very warm.  The sun was peeking in and out of the clouds.

As I plodded along, I tried to imagine what my parents would say if they
could see their 50 year old daughter, who was a fat and miserable teenager,
running along the Mississippi.  My ex-husband was a very heavy and unhappy
person.  He stopped growing, except physically, when I tried to keep moving
ahead.  He died when he was 46 years old.  What would he think of my
lifestyle now?  I thought about my ex-mother-in-law, his wonderful mother,
who was an example for me on how to live a good life in old age.  And I kept
running.

Don’t get the idea that I’m going to break any speed records.  I’m the
slowest runner you ever saw.  Most people walk faster than I run, but I get
my legs churning, my arms moving, and my heart rate up, and off I go.
Running in the cold and snow reminded me of my childhood when I would go ice
skating or sliding outside.  I would come back inside and strip off my snow
pants and jacket and gradually let my body warm up.

The warm air came over us like a blanket last night and our little bit of
snow is melting this morning.  No deer have raided my bird feeders.  There
are no deer tracks in the snow.  Our county has hired sharp shooters to hunt
the deer in our area at night for the next few weeks.  They are setting bait
to lure the deer into the parks and then they will shoot them.  It was
determined that we have too many deer in our area.  That’s true, since it
seems the deer are taking over.  I’ve seen them moving into houses, sending
their fawns to school, and shopping at the stores.  If the deer could
provide some sort of tax base, then their lives would be spared.

This long weekend is almost over.  Thanksgiving is a nice kind of weekend,
because it’s not too busy for me, and I’m able to get back to into myself
again before jumping into the manic excitement of the Christmas holidays.  I
can take some time to visit with my ghosts before going back to work
tomorrow.

Margaret R. Kramer
margaretkramer at comcast.net

http://www.bpwmn.org
Business and Professional Women of Minnesota

Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true
measure of our thanksgiving.
~W.T. Purkiser