Christmas has been here. You can probably tell with a quick glance in the dumpsters of most of the houses on your street. As many folks do we spent our day with four generations of family and friends. There were quite a few memorable events that happened throughout the day, but I’ll only take a moment of your time to reflect on a couple of them.
We made a pact this year to just get gifts for the kids, so that made the gift mayhem considerably less intense. Since our older grandkids were traveling until early afternoon we only had the baby Luc to contend with. Of course you can probably guess that he had an inordinate number of toys to unwrap, and as often happens, one toy rose to the top of the heap quickly, leaving the others relegated to “also ran” status. This year’s clear winner was the garbage truck.
I can’t say for certain why Luc loves trash, but he always has. He loves to throw it away for you. He loves to dump it out. And he LOVES to see the truck come and grab the cans. So when he laid eyes on his new trash truck toy (complete with working can lift) he simply said “wow….”. For the rest of the morning and night he could be found putting trash into the can, dumping it into the truck, then dumping the truck back on the floor. Mind you, driving around was not a part of the game; just dumping and re-dumping the same bits of paper all day long.
Perhaps this is a story to let me talk about my grandson…I do so love to do that. But it is also a story of recovery. It is far from uncommon to see a person in recovery find their own trash, sort through it, and throw it out with all if the other rubbish. But then we also have that inclination to go back a sift through it again, looking for whatever it was that we thought gave us some joy, only to throw it away once more. If you are anything like me the cycle can take years to overcome. But hopefully in time we realize that the pretty paper and bows were just trash dressing up something that we really didn’t need anyway. Now is our time to toss it out and recover.