A Christmas Carol

Over the weekend I caught a glimpse of Bill Murray’s version of A Christmas Carol called Scrooged during one of my rare TV sessions these days. It’s one of those 80’s flicks with terrible action shots and way overdone hair and makeup, but it did get me thinking about life perceived through the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future. Mostly the past is nothing but looking down memory lane, remembering the highs and the lows and seeing how far you’ve come since that geeky kid in high school. You remember lessons learned, love lost, the thrill of that promotion or a good friend’s baby being born. It’s remembering how you got to the here and now.

And if the ghost of Christmas present were to visit me today, it would paint a much different picture than if it visited me last week. Today is a day of firsts. A new job. An updated wardrobe. A clean(ish) slate. I look at my present and can only marvel at how pretty darn awesome it is. And although I have recently lost my best friend, I have five other good friends and an amazing family waiting in the wings to be there when I need them. I have a cat that runs to the door as soon I put my key in the lock as I come home and a stick shift car that I absolutely adore. My shower has water pressure, I have heat without throwing wood on a furnace and I don’t have to worry about where next month’s mortgage payment is going to come from. I have nothing to complain about.

I have no idea what the ghost of Christmas future would show me. A different career maybe, a different city. A husband and family – but maybe not. The thing about walking away from any relationship or friendship is that you are walking away from a life. Birthdays not celebrated, trips not taken, forgone late nights out and about, bitch sessions about this or that not held. That future that once had a framework is blank yet again. A new job where I have general expectations but am not entirely sure of produces about the same sort blank page. It takes every ounce of me not to flat out panic at the lack of structure of things to come. All I can do is take a deep breath, remember the horses grazing in the pasture, the peace and quiet of the farm, the warmth of the house after the wood stove is stoked and hold onto the calm I found in Italy. As the weeks go on, I think I’m going to be surprised at how much of an impact that trip had on me. And that I am really looking forward to.