The Tree, The Secret of Christmas, and a Letter

The Tree

Yay! Today's the day! I'm up early and prepping to head to Mansfield, MA, to visit my sister and niece and borrow my brother-in-law's truck to head to Westport, MA (near New Bedford/Fall River) to cut my own fresh Christmas tree. I'll have my Christmas mix CDs with me, a 'tanker' (kind of mug) filled with my own version of a 'mocha' (Folger's French Roast with a Nestle's Hot Cocoa packet mixed in with fat free (whatever!) half and half . . . mm-mm!).

The cutting of the Christmas tree is a tradition I've upheld for the past seven or eight years. Several times (and the first time), I cut trees with "The Love of My Lives". And, my buddy Kristin and her girlfriend (and my friend!), Cindy even went with me one year to cut a fresh tree, since I didn't have any means (aka 'truck') to get the tree with. (If you've ever tried tying an 8 foot tree to a Miata's rag top (convertible) and driving 40 plus miles or so with it tied thusly, please share the story. I've never tried and never will.)

You see, the first couple of times I made this venture alone, I would be very melancholy. I would be thinking about how much I loved sharing the cutting of the Christmas tree with "The Love of My Lives" and wonder who he was choosing to spend his time with instead of with 'fabulous' me, so this year is very liberating for me.

Though I extended the invitation to him to join me in the adventure of cutting our own fresh Christmas trees again this year, I never heard back. I am giving him lots of space, since I realize he's got the new boyfriend, his father's recently passed, I gave him "The J Sessions - Wishin'" CD AND, most importantly, I, ALONE, can be overwhelming company. In fact, I may never hear from him again . . . or, it could be months, weeks, hours or days.

My point is, (though many of you think otherwise, because YOU'D deal with it otherwise), I'm at peace with it all.

I really do enjoy being alone. I love being with someone (or 'some ones') special, BUT I don't need to (OK! OK! Sometimes we all NEED to).

I just get it now. Sometimes we're meant to be alone and sometimes we're meant to be with someone. And, it turns out, both places are great places to 'be'.

So, today it's me, my memories, my spirit guides, my higher power, my Christmas CDs, my visit with my sister and niece and even some sprinklings of 'tears of joy' that are mine to experience during this year's experience of getting the freshly cut Christmas tree. I'm happy. I'm LUCKY. And, most importanly, I'm grateful for it all.

Here's the lyrics to "The Secret of Christmas". I discovered this gem, by Ella Fitzgerald, on this obscure Verve Christmas CD called "Have Yourself a Jazzy Little Christmas" and have been 'stunned' by its message ever since. If you can find the song, get it. LISTEN to it . . . listen to it . . .

The Secret of Christmas

It's not the glow you feel
when snow appears.
It's not the Christmas card
you've sent for years.
Not the joyful sound
when sleigh bells ring
or the merry songs
that children sing

The little gift you send
on Christmas day
will not bring back the friend
you've turned away.
So may I suggest
The Secret of Christmas
is not the things you do at Christmas time,
but the Christmas things you do
all year through?


Now, here's The Letter . . . "I wrote a letter to my love."

Hi Jay!

Can't wait! I'm up early to head out to get my tree today. You will be missed!
BUT, you won't be far from my mind and heart. It'll be a fun day. I'm used to
making this trip alone, too.

Anyway, I haven't heard from you (except I noticed you unsubscribed from my
lancehatch.com distribution list -- I'd appreciate the support, BUT I know how
you HATE distribution emails). SO, I just wanted to check in and wish you and
yours well. I hope you are all dealing well with your dad's passing during this
holiday season and know that his birthday's around this time of year, too.

I just had to let you know, that the day (the four hours, really!) of the
funeral were extremely intense for me. It didn't hit me till immediately after
the reception and through the following weekend and couple of weeks, BUT I did a
lot of grieving, too.

You see, you all had had a year or more of prepping for it. For me, well, I had
to deal with seeing your dad in a condition I hadn't expected (since I'd last
seen him at Christmas Eve at your house) -- though he looked great at the funeral home, just
thinner than I'd prepared myself for.

Also, the 'renunion' with your family hit me hard, too. The hardest thing was
watching little Patrick 'bonding' with Steven Winchester over baseball. I don't
think he even remembers me . . . oh, well! That's to be expected. Though it was
great to hug Audrey in the receiving line.

And, of course, toss in meeting the new boyfriend, Steven, (he seems very nice
and good for you), and then realizing that your dad was being buried next to Pam
. . . well, -- and I know how you hate my way of 'processing' -- but, it was all
a bit much.

AND, on top of that, the CD release was imminent, too. Anyway, lots of stuff for
me to have to process alone and in a very short period of time. BUT, it's all
the way it's supposed to be and good.

Well, tonight I'm playing four songs from the CD at Jay Paget's 50th birthday
party. (He's the drummer, Jay "A".) Kristin, Jay, Mr. Curt, Mike, Ray and me.
We're a real rock 'n' roll band. It's a ball!

Well, I wish you could share some of these great experiences with me, but I
understand we are different people, in different places, perceiving life in
very, VERY different ways . . . and that's OK.

As long as we are being true to ourselves and those that we love, it's all OK.

What a riot! Ella is sing "The Secret of Christmas" as I end this . . . "It's
not the things you do at Christmas, but the Christmas things you do all year
through." Guess that would be you and me . . . each in our own way.

Okay! Gotta run!

Love you much!!!

Be well. And, if and when you're ready . . . reach out. I'll be there. (Isn't
that a Supremes or Temptations song?!)

Bye!

Lance

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Till later y'all . . . Mr. Christmas (AKA "Lance")