Kickin' & Screamin'

Well, shame on me. I have been MIA from the blog world since May. At which time, I’m pretty certain, I promised I’d write more. Just another thing in 2021 that didn’t go quite as planned. But I’m alive, healthy, and have too many blessings to count. So, at least my absence is not due to death, sickness, or having no blessings to count.

As those who know me in real life know…I’m a bit crazy. “Extra” as the kids say these days. I always have been, but experiences that life has placed on my doorstep over the past few years has increased my “extra” somewhat.

Merriam-Webster defines “extra” as being more than what is usual or expected; more than is necessary.

Necessary. Sort of a boring word to me now, at this stage in my life. Most of us seem to wake up in the morning and do what’s necessary. We brush our teeth and shower–necessary to not be deemed as gross. We eat breakfast. Necessary to survive. We consume caffeine. Necessary to allow us to be a nice human and not stab someone. But what ELSE? What can we do to go beyond what ‘s “necessary?”

What EXTRA things can we add into each day to make it better?

I had a vibe back in mid-November, when I heard someone in the grocery store say, “I can’t believe Thanksgiving is next week.” The person they were talking to said something that stopped me in my tracks. Sadly, they said “yeah…I’m afraid the holidays are just going to be depressing this year. Nobody seems to be in the spirit. I’m actually dreading Thanksgiving and Christmas.” Then the saddest part came….as they said, “I’ll just be glad when it’s all over.”

It’s not like I’d never heard it before. I heard myself say it, just a few years ago. I don’t know why it hit me like it did. I really wanted to walk over to that person and give them a hug. But hugging strangers during a pandemic seems to be frowned upon, so I refrained. But I hope, since that day, someone has hugged that person, and I hope they ended up having a decent (if not better) Thanksgiving, and that they are actually enjoying a bit of Christmas spirit right now.

That day, I went home and decided that I was going to be extra. I wasn’t sure how, but I figured it wouldn’t be that hard for me–in particular– to come up with an idea of how to go beyond what’s necessary to just get through the holidays. Beyond necessary. EXTRA.

Only a few minutes on Amazon and I found it. A Santa suit. Everything included. Wig, beard…everything. All the EXTRAS. Yes.

My Mom lives on the lake. She has one of the most seen docks in our area. Right by a highly travelled bridge. For years, I have referred to this dock as my happy place. I spend as much time as possible down there every spring and summer, late into fall. Last year, my sweet man David started putting lights on the dock, spreading Christmas cheer for everyone who drove across the bridge. But it still needed a little something else. A little something extra.

Hmmm…..did someone say EXTRA??

I was pretty pumped when the extremely large Santa suit arrived a few days later. I had to stuff the biggest pillow I could find down my pants to keep them on, and to try to appear nice and round like Santa should be. The beard was itchy but I didn’t care. It took great effort to get the wig on over all of my hair, but 27 hair pins later, it was secured. I looked ridiculous. Ridiculously EXTRA. I was ready. I was ready to spread some cheer.

The day after Thanksgiving, I went down to the dock, in full Santa gear. Big speaker in tow, ready to play some music. Some dancing music. I cranked it up. And I stared to dance. I danced and danced. Within five minutes people were honking their horns as they crossed the bridge. Arms were waving out the car windows. People I know were sending me texts…”OMG! Was that you I just saw dancing on the dock? That was hilarious!” I was adding a little EXTRA to their day.

Now, keep in mind that I’m a horrible dancer. But that, you see, made it even more extra. Also keep in mind that I have a 15-year-old daughter…. you know– that age where everything you do embarrasses them. Oh, the sheer terror in her eyes when she saw what I was doing. But even she, after some time, got a kick out of the reaction I was getting. And she only criticized my dance moves a few times.

I would notice the same cars passing over the bridge going one direction, then coming right back across going the other way. I realized they were turning around to cross over the bridge again. I tried to work my schedule to be dancing each afternoon around the time that the buses left the nearby elementary school (which happens to be where I worked the last 10 years of my teaching career). Hearing the buses honk their horns as they crossed the bridge and seeing all the little hands waving in the bus windows…made my heart happy. Pictures of me started showing up on stranger’s Facebook pages. It was hilarious. I was giving full invitation for people to laugh at me, as long as it was making them smile–that’s all that mattered to me.

My favorite day was about a week into December. I was tired, and ready to call it quits for the afternoon. I went to my speaker and turned off my music. In the sudden quietness, I heard a tiny voice yelling “HEY SANTA!” The way sound travels on water…it took me a second to find where the little voice was coming from. I finally saw a family of people several docks down, waving their arms high in the air. I saw the tiny human that was no doubt yelling at me. There was no way I could just wave back and then leave. They were watching. That tiny little human was watching. I cranked my speaker back up and started right back dancing. And danced and danced until I saw them walking up the hill back towards their house…still waving. There were several of them…a pretty big family. And apparently, I was mistaken when I thought I saw all of them heading towards the house. As I once again went to stop my music, thinking that I could now stop for the day, I glanced back at their dock once more. Coming my way were two people in a paddle boat. All bundled up, fighting the afternoon winds, heading my way. A mother and a tiny little boy. The mother paddled hard, as the little boy’s legs weren’t long enough to help much. They made it over to the dock as I stood there and waved. And then I suddenly realized that I might be about to ruin Santa for this child. Did he think I was really Santa? I remembered my own child at that age…believing with all her heart in Santa and his wonderfulness. When this little boy got close to me and saw me and heard my voice, was I going to ruin his belief? I wanted this to be something amazing for him, not the letdown of just realizing he had been watching a crazy woman with bad dance moves impersonate the guy in the bright red suit.

As they approached, I just stood atop the dock and waved….afraid to say anything, unable to make my voice sound like Santa’s. As they finally reached me, he looked up and said “Hey! Are you one of Santa’s helpers?” I could feel the relief flood through my body. Relief and excitement. “I AM, as a matter of fact, one of Santa’s helpers!” I said….as his mom looked up at me from that paddle boat and winked. She had handled everything. She had prepped him to NOT be disappointed, just like I had tried to prep the people driving across that bridge to feel some happiness.

I went on to tell him that Santa had put me in charge of this section of the lake. My job was to dance and wave at cars and boats and spread Christmas cheer. He asked me where the real Santa was, and I told him, “well, he’s at the North Pole, of course! He’s getting everything ready for Christmas!” The smile on his face made it all worthwhile. He waved at me the entire time his mom paddled them back to their dock. I continued to dance until they were completely out of sight, back up at their house.

I had several other visitors by boat, mostly people out fishing and enjoying the crazy warm weather we’ve been having here in Georgia. But that little guy will be the reason that I know I did something good.

I danced my last time yesterday, dancing until the sun went down behind the trees right across from me. As horns honked and arms waved, I felt happy that God put just enough crazy in me. Not too much, (though some might argue that point)….but just enough.

Quite often, I’m told “you’re crazy!” And my reply?

….“Thanks!“

If anyone ever told me I was just normal, It would probably break my heart. I don’t want to just be what’s necessary. I want to be Extra.

I hope your Christmas has an EXTRA special touch this year. If you fear that it’s only going to be normal….just the necessary amount of cheer to get through, then perhaps YOU could add a little extra, making it better than ever expected. Trust me…you won’t regret it.

Merry Christmas, and God Bless.