This year we had two Christmases: Adult Christmas and Kid's Christmas. Adult Christmas was kind of boring...lounging around drinking beer, opening up cookbooks and giftcards and bathrobes. So when Dad brought up our old Christmas presents from when we were kids, things got perked up a little. Dinosaurs, toy soldiers, , stuffed animals, Legos. They were fun to play with.
The treasure chest in the basement also held a lot of the books we used to read (or were read to us): The Berenstein Bears, Babar. Dad pulled one out that he said I used to love called Three Friends Find Spring. The three friends are Rabbit, Duck, and Squirrel. Duck hates winter (actually, he hates everything), and Rabbit and Squirrel try to cheer him up. All their efforts fail but in the end a crocus pokes through the snow and gives them hope that spring is almost there. That's the extent of the book.
I have gotten into reading children's books from time to time, especially when I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by life. The simple plots and innocent characters are redeeming and leave me asking questions like, 'where does Duck go grocery shopping when he lives in a tree in the woods?' and 'why do none of these animals wear pants?' Sometimes, though, their philosophical insight is impressive. The Velveteen Rabbit asking the question "What is 'Real?' " Deep.
These friends also have a way of simplifying things. Instead of expounding on complicated emotional states, they will say simply, 'I am sad' if they are not feeling well. I do feel sad, unloved and unfulfilled, with no reason to feel that way. I don't want to blame it on the season but it always seems to have something to do with everything. I couldn't even go to church Christmas Eve because I felt overwhelmed by fatigue and the desire to lie down and disappear into the couch. I looked forward to the semester being over and Christmas coming. Now the semester is over, and so is Christmas, and I feel sad. Maybe I will try to find a copy of Winnie the Pooh somewhere.