Bitter? Or Better?

Sometimes Tom and I speak over the phone to old acquaintances and after their dire predictions, lists of complaints and general gloom they spread, I've looked at Tom and said, "If I ever become like that, you have my permission to shoot me."

Some days I pause and ask myself, "Am I becoming bitter or better?"

This month for example. I know I've become better about receiving Christmas cards--you should have seen me years ago each December.

No, I'm glad you didn't. I mean, I'd mail my Christmas cards (with handwritten notes and tiny surprises) early and then day after day I'd trudge outside into a cold, wintry blast of snow to our mailbox where it seemed, inside, an even icier blast slapped me because there would, generally, be no Christmas cards until, oh dear, three measly days before Christmas.

And because those days I based my happiness upon the mail I received, if my dearest friends signed only their names to the card or sent a long, type-written page of brag--, uhm,memories, well, I'd frown, fume, and feel totally blown away.

That, my friend, is called becoming bitter. Not better.

But now? Now I'm one happy Christmas camper. I mean, each year I sign-up on two Christmas card exchange lists from favorite online groups, and those ladies keep the cards coming in a regular flow all month long, giving me my Christmas card fix. Also, I receive cards from other online friends, as well.

As for the simply-signed cards or long-missives-but-no-personal-message from old friends three days before Christmas? Heck, I love them all--now. I've come to realize that people are different, that I should give them the freedom to be themselves and to do the best they can. 

And somewhere along the way? I even began sending out my own type-written letters(!) and now I love every similar letter I receive, no matter how braggy (definitely some God-made changes there!).

But the largest change? When I stopped trying to get from people what only God could give. I began to accept people as they are. Probably because finally I could accept myself as I am. 

And now each year I'm accepting December and Christmas, itself, in a whole more kindly manner.

And that is better. Not bitter.


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