A few days ago, I bought my very first Christmas gift for this year. It’s for you.
It’s a snowglobe. Remember how much you loved them? You would always buy one for someone else in the family- your granddaughters or me, or even some of the new babies that your nieces and nephews were having. I remember some of your favorite ones were from Shoppers. The snowglobes with the place to slide a photo into. I could never figure out how to do it. I remember trying once, to get a photo in, and it just wasn’t working, so I guess I gave up.
I am so sorry, Mom, for not trying harder with those little things and also the bigger things. I know I didn’t show enough appreciation each time you bought another one of those globes for someone else. I think I just didn’t think the other person would appreciate it enough or was old enough to appreciate it. And I didn’t like seeing you only spend money on others. I wanted you to get something for yourself.
But I see now, that you saw the magic in those little globes. They are magical, the way they sprinkle little bits of sparkle and something like fairy dust into a little bubble and you can watch it over and over again. It is beautiful. You were and are beautiful for being able to see that and wanting to give it back to others. To give people magic, beauty and to remind them of the importance of simplicity- to cherish the little things.
My friend Michelle, actually had a dream about a beautiful snowglobe scene with you in it, just a few months ago. She said you were so happy and you were sharing that happiness with her, maybe to tell me about it. She described the scene as fun, and free, and shimmering- like the sparkle of new fallen snow.
I know you didn’t like the cold, or walking the snow, but you and I both had a love of snow because of Mama. Remember how she used to make little animals out of the snow that fell in our front yard? Or course you do, you would remind me of it years later, from time to time.
So I have been searching for a beautiful snowglobe for you for awhile now. Some have been too touristy looking- with bears or deer or Vancouver’s city life. Or the globes have been too small, or are those kind that have a flat side, which I don’t like. And others just seemed inappropriate- too religious, too generic, too much like something I could just pick up in a souvenir shop anywhere.
But finally the other day, I was walking by this florist shop and saw a few more unique snowglobes in their window. For a few days, I kept showing up at the shop at the wrong times- when it had just closed. But then I made it a point to find out their hours and get out to the shop to see if the snowglobes looked as beautiful in person as they did in the window. And sure enough, the one I had been eyeing for awhile, was still there. And guess what? Besides the sparkles that shower gracefully when you shake the globe even a little, there is music that plays. You just turn the dial on the bottom, like in a jewelry box, and this lullaby kind of music plays so peacefully and sweetly.
There is a figure in it- a young child, in a pink nightgown kind of dress, and she is on a sandy kind of surface. She is in bare feet. And she is bending down to pick up a starfish. I just noticed that now, because you have to really look down into the globe to see it.
Maybe it is in reference to something religious. I don’t know .There is a painted figure in the background- standing on the beach with a shawl hanging on his shoulder. He is looking back at the child. And there is a faded scene of an ocean and lighthouse in the distance.
Guiding Light. I bought it for you. But that’s what you will always be to me. I am sorry that it took me this long to acknowledge that that’s also what you have always been to me. My light that shows me the way. I am really counting on you more than ever now, Mom. I feel so lost without you. But I just have to believe that you are out there, or inside me, leading me to where I need to be and what I need to do.
It isn’t even December yet, but I always loved picking out gifts for you for Christmas. You are my number one – the person I think of first. So even without you physically here, I couldn’t help get you a physical present. I will look to it- the music, the child, the words- and think of you even more each time I see it.
Love you, Mom. I hate having another Christmas roll around without you. I hope you are surrounded by lots of magic sprinkling down on you just like in the snowglobe, and that your inner child is exploring and creating and free to be happy and at peace. I imagine you as the one in bare feet searching for treasures and starfish and enjoying the tranquility of the lapping of the waves.