The Annual Fight about the Annual Christmas Letter


You’d think because it was Christmas, there’d be a moratorium on fightin’ round here.


So here’s how it went down…

Me, not feeling very Christmas-y and such, finally sat down and came up with what could, in a pinch, pass for an annual Christmas letter to be inserted in with the requisite Christmas cards.  I will admit, it was light on Christmas cheer and heavy on…well…sadness and despair and what is happening in this world…but then, as I so often bring things full circle, was rounded out in the end with  heartfelt wishes for peace and love and gratitude for the blessings that do abound in each of our lives.

Granted, not one of my best.  And granted, not all sweetness and light.  But given the current circumstances, both here in our little home and across the states in 26 homes this holiday season, I think it was apropros.

His reaction?  After he deigned to sit and read the short (for me) one-page missive…pure and utter disgust.  Followed by some sort of sound meant to be a snort I think…the one made when people are thoroughly, well, disgusted.  You know…kind of like.. oh hell’s bells I can’t even get the phonics right to try to imitate it.  Forget it.  Just know this…he was NOT impressed.  But then………he is NEVER impressed with my holiday essays.  Never.  Not once.  Hasn’t EVER liked one of them.  And that’s going back as far as I can remember writing them for this happy little family.

WTF ever.

I’d tell him to write the damn things, but as the mayor in Southtown says in The Year Without a Santa Claus…”there’ll be a snowball’s chance in Dixie” before that would happen.

Course, himself did get a tiny bit of “Christmas spirit” somewhere inside (hesitate to say his heart) this year as he just went out and spent a bazillion dollars on new outside lights and a light-up Rudolph for the dear daughter!!  This…after he’d just threatened to take away my debit card so I would quit spending money.  AS IF.      Yes, my chiropractor is valiantly attempting to fix the whiplash in my cervical spine from the last couple of months.

So….here was the rest of his response…

As he threw the paper down on the counter…”Don’t send it to my family.”  And then stomped (ok, maybe he didn’t exactly stomp) out the door.  Himself doesn’t really stomp…I guess that’s me and the munchikin.  (Yes, that’s right…munch-i-kin…said Gracie-style.)

Anyway.  I ripped up the protocopy, said to hell with it, signed our names to the cards and mailed them.  And boy did that feel wrong.  The cards were naked.  Naked mind you.  And all you’re going to get is a holiday wish with three little names written at the bottom.  No literary embellishments of life here nestled among the trees at the edge of the forest, in the winter wonderland (FINALLY).

Course, that’s not what it was anyway, remember?  Pretty heavy on the sadness.  Oh yes…here was the rest of himself’s commentary:  “What???  Woe is me, my dog is gone????  What kind of crap is that????”

I tried to point out that then I segued into the sadness in Connecticut, which really sent him into orbit.  Wondering why on earth that had any place in our Christmas letter.  I tried to point out that 20 families just lost their little angels and Christmas would never be the same for them.  He didn’t budge.  Himself has both an irritating and an impressive way of putting things where they belong.  He doesn’t dwell.  Me…I dwell.


For your reading pleasure…and just to see if you’re brave enough to take sides in this debate, I’ll include my version of “merry christmas to all” below.

“December 2012

Hello dear friends and family~

I’ve put off writing this annual holiday letter as the situations currently transpiring in our lives are not the most holiday-cheer-filled things.  Neither do they inspire me to be witty or gay.  Rather the general feeling is one of despair and sadness.

Yes, I realize this is NOT the way to start off an annual letter to dear ones, in which one typically goes on and on about the accomplishments of the wee ones in the family or waxes philosophical about the wonderment of the world and our part in it and then brims over with gratitude for the blessings bestowed in the last year.

Our dearest new member of the family, Maximus, or Max, the Springer Spaniel puppy who entered our lives on Monday night May 14, 2012 has been missing since November 27.  Tonight, as I sit debating whether or not to write this letter, that is two and a half weeks, fast closing in on three.  Our hearts are heavy.  We have, Greg and I, between us logged many miles of searching, talked to countless people, made many phone calls and hung dozens of fliers.  All to no avail.  Perhaps, should the Universe oblige, by the time you are reading this, Max will be returned to our home.  Oh joyous day!  I can feel the celebration, the excitement, the gratitude!  Perhaps not.  And the days and nights will continue with our prayers for his safe and quick return to us.  I can not say which it will be.  I can only wish the resolution will be as I want it to be.  But then, that is not the way of life is it?  It’s not really our will, it’s for something much bigger than us to say or decree, isn’t it?  For the world turns in mysterious ways.  The news from a state in the northeast these past two days made my heart spasm in grief…made me run to grab up our own wee one and hold and love her ever so tightly…made me wonder how those parents will ever survive the loss of their little angels.

So, rather than attempt to entertain you with the mishaps and misadventures of this last year of our idyllic life here nestled in the hills, at the edge of the forest, I will simply leave you with our hopes and dreams for you and yours.

We fervently wish that the next year will bring you peace, love, and gratitude for the many blessings that abound in each and every one of our lives.  If we but take the time to see, we shall find these blessings, even amidst the pain and sorrow that sometimes seem to take center stage.

Namaste friends.”

And that, dear friends, is what I wrote.  Because that, dear friends, is what is in my heart today.

I decided to start writing again because sometimes, for me, it is cathartic.  I had stopped because for the first several days, three weeks to be exact, it was the same.  Max is not here.  We are sad.  Our hearts are broken.  We just want Max back home with us.

I’ll post more later on Max and where the search is at, etc.  Just know that he is not here with us now at 9:54 am on Wednesday December 19, 2012.  And it’s been 22 days since he’s been gone.

Keep him in your hearts and minds friends.  I am clinging to a small thread of hope that prayer will do what Greg and I have not been able to do…bring our little Maxster Baxster, Maxey!Maxey!, Maximus, or just plain MAX home to us.

Vaya con dios amigos/amigas.


About madranchwife

Mother, Mad Ranchwife(as in--at times-- crazy, nutso, loco, off-my-rocker insane), Veterinarian, Physical Therapist, "Liberal, pinko, gay-loving, Subaru-driving Socialist" (as I've been called), proud to be a totally tree-huggin', climate change believin', granola girl environmentalist, ObamaGirl, Pro-Choice (don't even get me started here...), and in my younger days a feminist vegetarian as a result of time spent at CU Boulder (this lasted approximately 14 months, until all the Jimmy Buffett I was listening to caused me to crave a cheeseburger). #FindingMyVoice #ScienceMatters
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