Christmas returns to the Sock Drawer

Christmas in the Sock Drawer returned with much celebration.  The glimmer of hope felt after the Massacre of July ’12 now burst into full flame. 

Like most good things, the flame came unexpectedly.  One day the sock organizer had been torn from the drawer and the socks had been dumped back in the drawer to co-mingle and become reacquainted.  Then soon thereafter…

The Wool Argyle from a Seattle trip remembered it best, relating the story to every new addition to the Sock Drawer.  “The drawer opened slowly with the slant of light blinding us all.  Then from the light tumbled all manner of old friends, now reunited with their beloved mates…”

Apparently, all the lost socks had been put aside until some gentle old person had sorted through the mound, reconnecting long parted socks.  Only a few lonely socks had remained behind in the basket, hoping for their own return.

“There they were:  gold toes, Easter flowers, Halloween pumpkins, ragged crew tops, and compressions!  All had been tied together, joined once again.  Oh, the glory!  You socks fresh from Kohl’s and JCPenney’s will find what it means one of these days…”

Socks awaiting their fate

So it was on Christmas Eve that the new Christmas socks were surrounded by all the Sock Drawer inhabitants.  The glow-in-the-dark Halloween socks illuminated the dark space as the elderly surgical sock with the rubberized chevrons came forward and announced the blessing on all present.

The Argyle sighed.  “…unfortunately, surgical sock had returned alone to the drawer, despite being tied with her mate.  Apparently, there was talk of his indiscretions with the lone lacey trouser sock.  He never made it back to the drawer, poor sod…”

All was well.

For previous adventures in the sock drawer:
http://thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com/2012/11/return-to-drawer-of-sock.html
http://thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com/2012/08/massacre-in-sock-drawer.html
and
http://thecontemplativecat.blogspot.com/2011/12/christmas-in-sock-drawer.html

Hunting for Humor

I am hunting for humor.  I have been searching for it for some time.  This time of year is so hard for many people, and I am no exception.

It confuses me somewhat, as this is a joyful time of year. 

Christmas—joyful.  Songs—irritatingly upbeat.  Decorations—bad taste at any other time of the year, but not now.  Demands on time—give, give, give but finding joy in the giving.

Church—cantatas that celebrate Christ’s birth and our salvation; that’s good. 

Holiday foods—another good thing. 

Cute and happy children—a real plus.

So what is my problem?

Basically, I have a dark side that I fight against. 

It is depression, something that has plagued me for much of my adult life.  It didn’t have a name until people I loved started dying. Finally the dark cloud that would come over me had a title and a treatment.

This time of year brings the memories of those who have died, who are celebrating Christmas in Heaven, to the front of my brain.  While I keep plodding along with Christmas joy, my humor is hiding somewhere.

Maybe it is in the sock drawer.