I love Christmas. I always have. Many people are not sure exactly why, because as they look on and watch the show, it seems that most years some snafu or another occurs as if Santa himself is trying to break my spirit and bring me to my knees, just to see if it can be done. Well, it can’t. Let’s take a snapshot peek at this year…
A few days before Christmas, I went to the garage to get my car and take my nephew to church. The automatic garage door wouldn’t open, so my car was trapped inside. I worked on it (which meant I stood in the cold and stared at it from different angles), called several people to come away from their families and out into the cold to help me get my car out, chewed on my fingernails and ate Christmas cookies.
A wonderful and much-called-upon neighbor did indeed come away from his family and out into the cold to help me, which meant that he did everything while I stood there and watched him do all of the work. He rigged it so it would open, warning me all the while that it may not last, but I sighed with happiness and relief and bounced into the garage ready to release my car from its prison, and…realized I had a flat tire. Not just low on air, either. Huh uh, no. It was one of those pancake flat suckers. Tow truck time.
The second week of school was drawing to a close after Christmas break. I drove home from work, put my car in the garage, and closed the door. All was well. I braved the cold to cross the yard to start up the old family truck, which, if truth be told, I had forgotten to start since the cold snap hit before Christmas. I got in the truck and click…click…click. Dead battery. I sighed and got out of the truck to cross the yard in the cold and get the jumper cables from the garage, except…now the door won’t open. Again. I sighed with more gusto and desperation this time because the wonderful and much-called-upon neighbor was out of town. I called another friend who brought his jumper cables over to get the old truck started. Admittedly, this truck has seen better days, but when that is your only means of transportation to work you learn to cut your losses and be really grateful for what you have. Now, when having little to no heat, barely crawling up any incline, and looking in the rearview mirror to see the lines form behind you as you belly-crawl down the highway at thirty to thirty-five mph is what you have, well, by golly, I am still grateful for it, as it beats walking
And this is just another glimpse of a few days in the “Life of Pam”.