Simple Elegance

So we got through Thanksgiving - the first of the holidays. I cooked...as I usually do. I made all the same dishes...no variations...no surprises...no guess work. I took comfort in knowing all the steps to the dance. I have put no pressure on myself during the last two days and made rest a priority.

During the last two months, our formal dining room (where Thanksgiving dinner would be served) has become a depository for all things pending. It began with the bags of my belongings that my husband placed there when he cleared out my van. I had not been able to touch them. Looking at them only brought back the anger and the pain, so I have ignored them...and we have all been adding to the mess.

Today, I did not know how I would clear out the dining room and table in preparation for our dinner. This was a job that I did not have the emotional strength to do alone...so I enlisted the help of the children. I remembered something my therapist recently told me about taking on overwhelming tasks one small piece at a time. I started delegating. The things that I could not bring myself to touch and take into the car, I gave to the kids. They were more than happy to help with this unusual project. In no time, we had cleared the room except for one bag with some of my very personal things. Still I did not have it in me to sort through it...so I left it in a corner.

The work of setting the table I gave to my older daughter. This has been something that I have taken much pride and pleasure in before, getting creative with napkin rings, candles and centerpieces. I knew that in order to keep my inner peace this day, I would have to relinquish that responsibility completely to my daughter...and she did a lovely job.

After dinner, I remained at the table coloring cornucopias with the kids while my husband washed the dishes. (Yes, he has once again turned into model husband). After a while, I finished clearing the table of leftover food and serving dishes. Then I did something that I had not anticipated. After removing the used tablecloth and admiring the beauty of the bare wood, I took out my favorite Christmas runner and laid it on the table, its delicate white lace and gold embroidery contrasting on the dark wood. Again, just one baby step.

As I left the room, pleased with the simple elegance of this scene, I turned and softly said to the room and the house in general, "Welcome Christmas".