Wednesday, December 15, 2010

255. Plans

So my dear friend Sammi is over for coffee and she’s telling me that her mom is having knee surgery tomorrow and that her dad is in an assisted living facility because he's elderly and having trouble caring for himself. Then, Sammi tells me that on Christmas Day, she will drive over to pick up both her parents so they can spend the special holiday with Sammi and her husband and kids.

I am nodding, sympathetic, because I care about Sammi and I feel bad that Sammi has to drive and schlep all over the place on December 25th (which also happens to be Sammi’s birthday, no Sammi is not a metaphor for Jesus, at least I don’t think she is). Who wouldn’t rather be curled up in front of the fireplace, wearing their pajamas, sipping hot cocoa, and relaxing while opening gifts than driving all over freezing (possibly snowy) Crazy Town on a legal holiday?

Then Sammi throws a conversational grenade, which explodes in my face and has my heart racing. She says, “So that’s what I’ll be doing tomorrow.”

Gaaaaaaahhhhhh! Tomorrow is Christmas! How did this happen?! Yikes! I have to fly to California to visit my mom and I need to print out my ticket and I think my printer's broken or out of ink and I haven't even packed yet and where is my suitcase and I still need to do laundry first and I must finish wrapping all the presents and maybe I should buy some presents first to wrap, oh no, where did the time go, I can’t believe tomorrow is Christmas!

That is what Crazy MOV’s brain is saying. What Calm Cool Collected MOV (CCC) actually says is, “What exactly will you be doing again tomorrow, Sammi?” CCC MOV smiles complacently and casually and cautiously while waiting patiently for the answer. Deep breath, CCC MOV, deep breath.

Sammi (who must think that I am partially deaf), is happy to repeat herself (she has two small children, so she is used to explaining things 500 times without getting mad): “Taking my mom to surgery. That way, she can recover at home for the next week, and then in 10 days, on Christmas, she will be okay to go in the car to my house.”

Tomorrow is not Christmas after all. That's the best Christmas gift I could hope for.


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