See John write

I’m just trying to get through finals and I had this horrible realization—it’s almost Christmas. I’ve never ever ever been this unprepared for Christmas.

If you should venture out on Christmas eve, I’m sure you’ll find me wandering mindlessly in some mega-store muttering to myself.

So you’ll please forgive me for not posting here as often as I would like. I promise we’ll get back to Brian and Jenny soon. Poor Brian, he’s been sitting in that cold rest stop for days now. We’ve got to get him back on the road. His poor mother is very anxious to see him.

Wish me luck. I’m going to take one of my finals now.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.

I just have to say that this is such a great time of the year. I need to take a photo of our Christmas tree and post it here. I love our tree. It’s so … Christmassy. And I love getting Christmas cards. I love the rush of finding just the right gift. I love that people smile more and wish each other “Merry Christmas.”

May your week be filled with the Christmas spirit.

Last night on the bus ride home, I was seated across from a very large, rough-looking man. His black coat was pulled up tight around his neck. He wore a dark gray knit hat. His prominent forehead and dark, scruffy goatee were perfect complements to the scowl he wore on his face. His hands were enormous—each fist about the size of a cantaloupe.

He held in one enormous hand a PSP. The device was positioned so that no one else could see the screen, but it was clear he was using it to watch a movie. Given his appearance and the intensity with which he was focused on the screen, I guessed he must be watching an ultra-action flick.

The traffic was quite congested and the bus slogged along through the stop-and-go flow. After several miles of the monotonous slow progress, I notice this man was beginning to doze off. Sure enough, a minute or two later, he lowered his PSP into his lap and tipped his head back with his eyes closed. The PSP sat just where I could catch a glimpse of the screen.

But I could hardly believe my eyes. I didn’t see Tom Cruise, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jean Claude Van Dam, or fiery explosions. No, I saw the familiar frames of that stop-animation classic, Santa Claus Is Coming to Town. No, seriously! It made my whole Christmas season.

I tapped my pen on the notepad. Jenny had been precisely right. That weekend at Ben and Stacy’s had terrified me. Jenny never came right out with it. But I felt an uneasiness that shot up my spine and felt like an icy grip on the back of my neck.
The grip tightened on the ride home.

“Can we stop talking about your nephews?” I snapped.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jenny shot back.

“Ahhg, it’s just that they wear me out and now the whole way home it’s like it’s all you want to talk about.”

“They wear you out! How? You didn’t spend more than five minutes with them the whole weekend.” Jenny’s voice quivered. I could see her eyes welling up.

“Hey, this weekend was your deal, remember? I wasn’t even supposed to come,” I responded smugly.

Jenny turned her face away from me. I could see her shoulders begin to shake.

“Jenny,” I said trying my best to be sympathetic, “I just wanted to talk about something else. That’s all.”

“You don’t get it,” Jenny said after a long pause.

“Don’t get what?”

It was well after midnight when I pulled into a rest stop. I had been thinking a lot about my dad. Especially about being a young boy. And in the middle of my memories of home came another memory. I pulled out my notepad.

#2. Listening but not hearing

“Hey, good news,” I said into my phone as I walked out of the office. “The Altius deal fell through which means we won’t have to hold all those meetings this weekend.”

“Is that OK? That the deal fell through?” Jenny asked.

“It was a mess. I’d been trying to show the partners that the whole company was way overvalued. But you know how it is when one partner gets too excited about a deal—there’s no talking them out of it.”

“Well, that just goes to show that you are the best analyst in the house,” Jenny quipped.

I remember thinking how great it was that Jenny understood enough about my job that she could appreciate what I do.

But while I was reveling in her pat on the back, she added, “Oh, Brian, that means you can come with me to Stacy and Ben’s for the weekend!”

Stacy is Jenny’s sister. She had two small boys at the time. Jenny utterly adores her nephews. But they always made me so uncomfortable. Snotty noses, loud, whining, screaming, crying. The thought of spending the weekend with them made my skin crawl.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “That’ll be fun.”

~~~~~~

Sunday afternoon, Jenny insisted that Stacy and Ben take off for a while. “You guys need some time alone. The boys will be fine.”

I plopped down in front of the TV and tried to find the Bears game.

Jenny sat on the floor in the other room playing a board game with the terrible two. I worried that she might call me to come join them. But thankfully, she seemed content without me.

During halftime of the football game, I went to the kitchen for a snack. I glanced in to see Jenny on the couch reading a picture book to both boys.

It was not too much later that Jenny came into the family room to join me. The younger boy was in her arms sound asleep. Carefully, she sat down on the couch next to me.

“Look at him, Brian,” she whispered. “Isn’t he angelic?”

I glanced down at him and was simply grateful for his silence. “Yeah, he’s great,” I said.

Jenny’s elbow gently prodded my ribs. “I can’t believe how terrified you are of kids,” she chided, seeing right through me.
“I’m not terrified of kids,” I said. “They’re just so … messy.”

Jenny laughed at me. “Oh, yeah,” she said sarcastically, “Mr. Neat Freak.”

“What do you mean? I am a neat freak,” I insisted.

Again, Jenny laughed at me. “Well, some messes are worth it,” she said as she leaned down and kissed her nephew’s forehead.