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An admitted shoe geek waxes philosophical about running, triathlon, and life in general.
Comments welcome!


Monday, December 23, 2013

The last day of work...

Things are pretty quiet on the day job today, though I am actually getting something constructive done (for which they pay me, not just doing my last-minute online shopping). Of the few people that even showed up today, and the fewer still that are hanging around at lunchtime, most are just biding their time until the boss does the annual tour-of-shaking-hands to wish us a "happy holidays" (another soap-box rant). They then ignore the sound of beating feet towards the door as soon as they turn their backs.

I do have some other things I want to do today. And some other things I need to do today.

I think what I miss most about my younger days (college) is the week or so BEFORE Christmas, when the last final exam was completed -- the stress was off, I could do all my shopping in a day, and then just chill and mentally/spiritually prepare. Trying to fit all that into the cracks of life is a drain, and really I tend to just do what's necessary, waiting until it's finally over to be able to enjoy myself a bit.

Kinda sad, really.

But my new daughter gets to celebrate her first Christmas, even if she'll have absolutely no idea what's happening. That's okay, there will be plenty of pictures with which to embarrass her later.

Yesterday, my family and Eric's family (the guy I do a lot of riding and running with) went into Seattle for the gingerbread house display, dinner at Gordon Biersch, and some shopping while waiting for the "indoor snow" and a Santa appearance. While waiting, Eric's daughter mentioned about how "Santa isn't real."

Ah... Time for me to step in. At 12 years old, she was mature enough to understand.

"What do you mean, 'Santa isn't real'? Don't you believe in magic?"

Blank stare. I don't think she expected anyone to challenge that thought. Least of all the engineer.

"Tell me something -- how do you feel when you give someone something?"

Another blank stare. She was trying to figure out how to answer the NEXT question without answering THIS one. I persisted.

"When you give something to someone, how does that make you feel? Do you feel good about it?"

Subtle nod with a cautious, "Yeeeeaaaaahhhh?"

"That's Santa! The spirit of giving! When you're 2 years old, you have no way to understand that, so you need something magical, some one to BE that spirit until you can understand the feeling yourself. But by the time you're old enough to figure out that the big guy in the red suit really DOESN'T come down the chimney, you're also old enough to understand the real magic. When you give someone something because you care, that's the magic, that's Santa."

She smiled and nodded.

Happy Christmas, or however you celebrate, to all.

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