Wednesday, February 04, 2009


February is like Christmas time around my house. There is snow on the ground. Damp snow suits, like stockings hang over the register, and everywhere I look I see bright eyes shining with joy and wrapping paper littering the floor.
My daughter's birthday is this month. She turns six and she's smarter than I could have ever hoped to be at six. Sweeter, too. She makes me want to put half of Toy R Us on layaway just to show her an ounce of what she means to us. She giggles when she gets presents. She picks at the tape because the wrapping paper is precious to her - beloved. She will fold it and keep it in her room for months.
Only a few short days after our daughter turns six, my husband will turn. . . oh dear, can I say in polite company? Alas, he will be 46. I like to remind him that he will soon be facing the business end of 50. I'm younger, so I get away with it. I peer at his face, count the crows feet, give him a poke in the belly and say, "Well, at least you're not losing your hair." He rips the paper in one swoop, wiggling a finger into the gap then his whole hand and then ZIP - the present is bared, exposed. He leaves the paper on the floor. Later he will notice it and ask our son to put it in the recycle bin for him.
Our son. A few days after his father turns his shocking age, our son turns eight. He likes large packages, the bigger the better. We can't find a Lego set with enough pieces to keep him occupied for longer than an afternoon. His mind is organized on levels I can only dream about. He tears the paper too, but not on the seam like his father. He grabs onto the paper just anywhere, scrunches it like a cotton towel and yanks hard, taking a piece (big or small) of paper, and sometimes dropping the gift in the process. He is noisy, hollering out the name of the gift. But soon he will pick up his favorite gift, and sit beside me. He'll snuggle in and read the instructions to me; bits of paper strewn around us.
It's like Christmas. But I like that this fury of gifts happens in February - the month of valentines and pounding hearts and love. It's fitting. It's exactly how I feel.
Bonnie Grove is the author of Talking to the Dead a novel (David C. Cook) available for pre-order at www.amazon.com, www.amazon.ca, and www.amazon.co.uk
and the author of Your Best You: Discovering and Developing the Strengths God Gave You (Beacon Hill Press) - a book that, with the help of Bonnie, a former program developer and trainer, will transform your life. . . and you'll have a wonderful time doing it. Order today at www.amazon.com, www.amazon.ca, www.christianbooks.com www.barnesandnoble.com
Visit Bonnie at www.bonniegrove.com

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