Christmas 2008

There is a park beside my parents house that, for the last few years, I have often retreated to whenever I feel like reflecting on things. I did that tonight… at 2AM on Christmas morning.

Standing there in the characteristic stillness of a snowy night, warming my hands with my frozen breath, I looked at the neighborhood that I grew up in - with 25 year old eyes.  Where the frog pond had been, there was now a tennis court. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard those clammy croaks as if they were right beside me. I thought of my roommate. Once, when we were kids, he had lived opposite my back fence. We used to explore the dilapidated old barn across the street, despite the fact that it was haunted. Today, there is a housing development in its place. The frogs have long vacated.

If, back in those days, I had ventured much beyond Mitchell Road, I would probably have met two other boys who were a year younger than me. In fact, it’s entirely possible that I did. They were taking piano lessons just like I was. And they were walking the same way to school. And they knew the frog pond just the same. Funny, that.

It seems as though a lifetime has passed between then and now. Some would say we’ve “grown up”. Well I don’t feel like I have. Standing in that field of snow, transfixed by all those playfully bittersweet Christmas lights, I felt just as much a kid as I always have – clambering through life with no more sense of purpose or direction than a curious toddler.

I noticed the playground, and I was reminded of a memory that I didn’t know I had. There on the swings, we had talked one summer night. And when it began to rain, Tasha and I sat underneath the arched bridge that connected the monkey bars to the swirly slide, and talked about…. I don’t know. It wasn’t even that long ago. At the time, I never even thought it was significant that we were beside the frog pond. In retrospect, how could I have NOT seen? She was a truly wonderful friend, and ever since we met, Christmas has ALWAYS made me think of her.  

In a way, standing in that field of snow was like standing in the center of my life – a curious feeling of transcendence. And in the moment of clarity that resulted, its “meaning” became clear to me.

We are NOTHING without our friends and family. They make us who we are, and give meaning and definition to our existence. Nothing else can do that. So, my Christmas message this year is very simple… I’d like to say “thank you” to all the people who have supported me and made me feel loved over this past year (and you all know who you are). Your friendships have been the greatest gift of all.

Merry Christmas,

~Andrew Muir