In the end, the day ran out of steam as I worked my way through it. The morning was fine enough and the weather was great. I Skyped Kristen and Chelsea and gave them a virtual tour of my studio. By the time night fell though I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate much anything. If the angels were singing it was somewhere else.
Carlos whipped in and I said I was going to stay here. He told me that Verna was going to be upset but I explained and he seemed to understand. He sped away on the sandy road into the night.
After a while I tell myself to snap out of it and wander over to the Villa where another party is taking place. Lucas spies me and runs over. Lucas is the ten year old son of Ana who works here. The rest of the gathering is a mixture of guests staying at the resort.
After an embrace, Lucas pulls me into one of the bedrooms where he has set up Wii and he wants me to play 007 with him; meaning he tries to shoot a virtual me while I try to shoot a virtual him. In no time at all we are two little boys firing away and jerking our bodies from side to side as if that somehow helps the virtual people we are trying to shoot.
A child’s laughter fills the room.
After we finish, Lucas has permanently attached himself to me. His arms wrap around one of mine and he becomes my constant companion for the night. He is continuously begging me to go play Wii with him again. I shot him more than he shot me and he is dying for revenge. I’m smart enough to know to quit while I’m on top. So I keep telling him no and he keeps asking anyway.
Dinner is served and it is a formal sit down affair. My friend Hyler stood and prayed a very Christian prayer to a roomful of mostly non-believers who all just stared at him. Undaunted though Hyler thanked God on behalf of everyone else for the birth of the Christ child.
Because everyone was from somewhere else most of the dinner conversation circled around geography and weather; except for Lucas who kept repeating his plea, “Please Mike one more time! Just one more time”!
Afterwards everyone spilled outside into the warm night. As I began saying my goodbyes I was reminded by Nancy that I have to cook breakfast for everyone on Boxing Day. And it is true that for the past several years I’ve cooked a southern breakfast for my Canadian friends who say “Delish!” with every bite.
Boxing Day is the day after Christmas sales in Canada. Banks close and stores open and bargains are everywhere as the prices come tumbling down. Originally it was a day to make certain that the poor were taken care of but the poor don’t rate as highly as they used to.
Boxing Day come from a Christmas Carol when Good King Wenceslas was surveying his land the day after Christmas when he saw a poor man gathering wood in the middle of a snowstorm. Moved, the King gathered up surplus food and wine and carried them to the peasant's door. Helping the poor at Christmas time seems to come from this story.
Now my very different Christmas is over and the agenda is breakfast. I’ve got a few more days here and will be back on Tybee Island for the New Year. Then this year of transition will be over and a new one will begin. It is very much a stripped down life that I march forward with. Both personally and professionally I am no longer what I was. Everything is new! Everything is mine for the making!
Working through loss and then journeying hard to find myself has reminded me how uncaring people can be, like the poor who are mostly ignored on Boxing Day. But I’ve also learned how incredibly wonderful they can be as they when they choose to make a difference. It is always funny how one group is quite large and the other quite small. The selfishness of many is diminished by the magnitude of the few where love reigns supreme.
So I am ready for this New Year to begin and for this damned current one to end. And as soon as this breakfast is over, I’m taking the boxing gloves off.
