Archive for December, 2015

Crayons…

Posted in Family, Where Angels Perch on December 12, 2015 by rodzink

Crayons

Saturday morning…and much too early, but Aashir proclaimed this as “Mommy and Daddy Day” as he climbed into our bed….on Mommy’s side, of course.  And so, the day begins….crayons….cartoons…coffee… The latter is for me.

I wish I could write it, but I cannot.  His pronunciation of the word “crayon.”  To capture it in letters….impossible.  I can, however, capture his beautiful pictures… struggling to stay neatly between the lines…carefully…bearing down.  He reaches back into his box of colors often…. pulling out a variety… wred…gween…lellow…. His creations are typically people…. Baker… Belle… Mommy…. Spiderman…

…and I look at him…his beautiful dark eyes… caramel hair… fantastic eye lashes and lips… his skin… mixed baby…dominant Indian features.  the physical characteristics of a beautiful Mommy… the colors… the crayons…

Sitting near him…fumbling with a crayon that he has handed me…the crayon of his choice… I have to look between the lines… beneath the colors.. This, too, I pray…. that he has inherited her heart…and soul… and faith… for I have never known another…. like her…

Stockings…

Posted in Where Angels Perch with tags , on December 6, 2015 by rodzink

fireplace

The tree.. the lights….the decorations…perfectly placed from front porch to dining room… each item moved…adjusted…. repositioned… strategically angled… under careful management.  Even then, no placement is final… Wise Men have their superior…Santa is not the only one making lists…checking it twice… And Risvy, our faithful…mischievous…daring Elf… his shenanigans are subject to stringent protocol before lights out..

The Stockings… the stockings are unpacked…one at a time… embroidery perfectly stitched in the trim. … Mom…Dad…

Baker…Annabelle…Aaiden Grei… Aashir Rais…

I do it every season…feel each name…… each memory…  a beautiful story… Our Christmas story…a story that cannot be put into words…. but this family knows the chapters…the theme….can turn immediately to dog-eared pages…. epilogue…acknowledgements…

To borrow some words from Seuss:

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags.
It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store?
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?

On Christmas morning…when stockings are emptied.. and I listen to the voices…the beautiful voices of this household… I can be found… in a comfortable chair…coffee in hand…. collecting memories…gathering moments… and stuffing them back into these stockings.  There is a Christmas morning somewhere in my future…when I’ll wake with Faranah… and there will no longer be children in the house…. but those stockings…. will be full…perfectly placed…and hanging from our mantle.