A Really Great Girl

Last night, my daughter, Iz, and I finished decorating the Christmas tree. This year, the tree was done in phases due to me being too busy to locate all the boxes of ornaments, and then coordinate that effort into one event. Of course, even though it was several small efforts, it was just Iz and I doing the decorating; it was what Iz liked to call “Girl time!”

I went up to the frigid attic to find the last of the ornaments. The less meaningful ornaments had been relegated to the basement, because since it took me so long to take down my tree, I had no energy to haul them back up to the attic. I scanned the attic floor looking for a box that might shout “Precious Ornaments On Board!”

Unfortunately, the floor was littered with boxes that were all screaming simultaneously at me. One said, “It’s time to throw these ALF trading cards out!” Another said, “You haven’t worn these shoes in 4 years!” And, another said, “Jimmy Hoffa's in here! Mystery solved!”

I then screamed at myself, “I should have cleaned this place out when I was unemployed.” Though, back then, being a cycling fiend seemed, oh, so more important. I tripped over a metal bar, swore, and when I looked up, I saw the box I was looking for; thus, this proves, even in tree trimming, “No pain. No gain.”

I brought the box down to the living room where Iz had been waiting patiently for me. Okay, that’s far from the truth. The minute we got home, it was “Mom, are you going to get the box? Mom, get the box. Mom, let’s finish the tree. Get the box!!!”

I took the top off of the box. The way Iz was looking at it, I thought a rabbit might jump out. She loved decorating, my little bling girl.

Anyway, she sat down on the floor and started to take out the ornaments. I had to say the standard and required, “Be careful. Most of these are glass and some are very old.” She said the standard and expected, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

As she took them out and unwrapped them, a million memories came back to me. One ornament was from my grandparent’s tree and still had wax on it from when they used to put candles on trees. (Can you say Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval…not!) Some were from my parent’s tree, like the little metal spiral thingy that my siblings and I fought over to see who would get to hang it on the tree.

Iz unwrapped a mother cat holding a baby kitten. I asked, “Can I hang that one? My Mom gave it to me.” Iz said, “Sure.”

Shortly after my Mom was diagnosed with cancer, she came over one day and gave me the ornament. I was just pregnant with Nathan; my Mom died shortly before he was born. The box the ornament was in said, “A mother’s love is forever.”

Iz saw me hold the ornament like I was holding Fabergé egg. She said, “You should put that up at the top by the angel. I said, “Okay, I will.”

I went over to the tree and reached up to hang the ornament. Before I did, I pulled it back, held it up to my mouth, kissed it, and then said, “I love you, Mom.” I placed it on the tree; the mother cat smiled down upon me.

Iz asked, “Did you just say I love you, Mom?” I said, “Yes, I did.” She asked, “Because your Mom is dead?” I said, “Yes.”

She then said quite matter of fact, “You know, you can still talk to people when they’re angels. You see them when you’re sleeping.” I asked, “You do?” She said, “Yes, I talked to your Mom the other night.”

I started to laugh and then I stopped. Iz was dead serious. I asked, “What did she say to you?” Iz said without even pausing, “She said what a really great girl you were when you were little.”

I said, “Aw, that was nice.” Iz smiled like she had just been given a merit badge. And, before I could say anything else, she said, “Oh, look. A kitty!”

Actually, they were a pair. My friend, Bitsy, who had died of breast cancer, made them for me one Christmas. I told Iz this, and then she said, “You should put them up by the angel and your Mom then.” Iz is going to be in Management some day, I’m sure of it.

Wondering what she might say, I asked, “Did you see Bitsy when you were sleeping, too?” Iz said, “Yes.” I asked, “What did she say?” Iz said, “She said you were the best friend she ever had.” I wanted to cry, happy tears, but instead I pulled Iz toward me and hugged my little John Edward.

Like me, Iz was a really great girl. And sometimes it is through the eyes of sorrow that you can see the gifts in any season. They are not wrapped up in pretty paper and tied with a lovely ribbon; they are the people you see right before you, dressed in jeans and a Hannah Montana t-shirt. ♥

Happy weekend, everyone! ♥