December 25, 1997
(written Dec 24, 1997)
Dear Lisa, I love you. I looked for a "mushy" card for you this Christmas, but couldn't find one that said what I wanted to say. So I thought I would make up my own, you know? When you stop to think about it, Christmas is such a strange time. It's a time where people are expected to stop and think about everyone else. People are expected to give money and time. People are expected to take joy in the little things. December is like a global narcotic that way. Everyone gets hooked sooner or later. Like Scrooge, they change. I see people at work stop and look at things a bit differently. Arguments become less personal. People start conversations out in pleasant tones of voice, and end them with "Have a happy holiday." It's a great time, isn't it? It makes me feel like a kid sometimes. Just a little whiff, you know? A sensation like a feather's brush that makes my eyes get wide and brings an uncontrollable smile to my face for that oh so brief microsecond. The feeling you get when Harry Bailey calls his brother "The richest man in town." I think that's what I like the most about being with you. You make me feel like a kid. Everyday. I noticed it a couple weeks ago, actually. I saw these changes in everyone--and admittedly in myself, too . . . at least in my public face. Seeing these changes made me feel like I do at home. Warm somehow. And that's when I realized I have a piece of Christmas spirit in my everyday life. It's you. It's you. It's you. I like the way that sounds. It's you. Seeing these changes in everyone else, and realizing I made some too, made me very uncomfortable. Why do people need December to make them better? Well? I don't. I realize that now. And again, you are the reason why. Another thing I like about being with you is that you make me look at myself differently. You've made me want to be better, and you've let me see what better is. You are an impressive person. Not perfect, of course, unless one can judge based only on motivation. But you are a beautiful person. Like the surface of the ocean. Filled with greens and blues and purples. Dark navy in the deepest sections, emerald over white sand when viewed from the right angle. When I traveled to Florida a lot, I used to sit on the beaches at night and listen to the waves. It's a thrilling sound. Constant. A low rumble, perfectly tuned. Totally natural. I remember being totally comfortable listening to it. I remember being able to forget about the negative events of the earlier day. Cool sand on my feet. The ocean singing. A touch of salt in the air. This is how I feel when I think of you, now. And I couldn't find a card that said this in any way that made sense. I love you. Merry Christmas,  Daily Persistence is © Ron Collins |
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