Where to Begin?

Hey again, my dear readers.  So, it's after the holidays and I have so many things I want to talk about.  I can honestly say I have no clue where to begin. 

At the beginning, I suppose.  That might be a good place.

As you remember from my previous entry, a wonderful woman lost her husband the day before Christmas eve.  I never knew him, but I worked with his now widow - I know he must have been a wonderful man, because she was so sweet and wonderful to me.  I can not imagine what their family must be going through; my heart still aches for them, three days later.  Please, keep them in your prayers.

Christmas eve came.  The puppet show at church was fantastic and went off without a hitch.  My sister was the solo puppet for a cover of Springsteen's "Born in the USA" called "Born in Bethlehem".  She was amazing.  I got to be a sheep dressed as a 1950's secretary for another cover.  Not as thrilled with that song as I was with Kate's solo.

And then came the big one.

We did this thing that I can barely pronounce, let alone spell, which was done entirely in black light.  The song was an African cover of  "Oh, Holy Night".  Our hands had white gloves on them to glow in the black light, there were signs with African masks painted on them in black light paint, and black light puppets.  What we did was form a line on either side of the stage and pass these pieces that were painted in black light paint in rhythm to the song, creating a really cool look.  The person at the end of each line took the pieces and placed them on a board in a set pattern.

When the song was done, a plug in the middle of the board was taken out and all that the audience could see were our hands in prayer and a glowing cross. 

I got lucky enough to go home after helping with two services and sitting through a third - Kate wasn't so lucky.  She had to play handbells at a fourth service.

When I got home, I decided to check my Facebook account before unwinding. (Yeah, I have a Facebook.  If you feel inclined, you can look me up...)  That was when I found out that the father of one of the guys who helps with the youth group had died.  I was heartbroken, because the man who helps with youth group has been such a great support to my sister and myself, and to lose someone over the holidays - on Christmas eve - is brutal.

It was the second death in two days that I had learned about via Facebook.

I broke down.  The deaths, the lack of sleep preppin for the holidays, the fact that I had just gotten over a cold - all of it had taken every dime of emotional energy out of me.  I ended up in the kitchen with my mom, where she gave me a talk about death.

 I'm twenty and I can honestly say I do not know what I would do without my mom.  Yeah, we have our bouts and we have our shouting matches from time to time, and sometimes I swear we're the most dysfunctional family on the block.  But the truth is, she's one of the only people I trust with my emotions like that.  And she almost always makes me feel better about things.

I felt better after our talk.  My sister and dad made it home and we had pot roast for dinner.

Christmas came and it was beautiful.  No snow, but you can't have everything.  My mom liked the socks I made, and my dad seemed to like the tie.  Kate loved the frog and bag I made.  I got some cool stuff too - I got a nice vanilla sugar scrub that my sister made and that smells like sugar cookies, some great handwarmers that my mom made and that I'm wearing as I type this, a copy of the Breakfast Club on VHS from my dad (it's a memory thing, which did not go unnoticed by me), a stylish knitting bag and needle case, and a book of sock patterns among many others.

It was a wonderful Christmas.  I got to relax, knit all day (I completed a penguin that I had started the day before, minus the sewing), and spend time with my family.  Then I got to go to bed in my new pj's (it's a tradition. =D )

Which leads us to today. 

More lounging about and knitting (I'm working on mastering socks), and I did laundry.  I think that about sums it up.  Oh, and I blogged.

You know, it's funny.  I don't always write on here, but I always write something every day.  One of these days, I'm going to be published.  I just know it. =)

And now I must bid you farewell.  Socks don't finish themselves.  Also, please keep praying, both for the two mentioned in this blog, and for the many who lost loved ones.  Thanks.

~Meaghan