One among my favourite Christmases occurred in California. My husband and I had lived in Los Angeles for a number of years. Our first Christmas, we drive to San Francisco after midnight mass on Christmas Eve – loads shorter drive than the sixteen hundred miles to our households in Texas in ifmy climate. Beside, we each needed to be again to work on Monday. That was an excellent journey, crammed with small adventures. As anybody who has been to San Francisco can let you know, The Metropolis (as it’s known as by these of us who like it) holds many charms, and we sampled a lot of them. Consider me, San Francisco can get in your blood!
On this second or third Christmas in California (reminiscence fails me), we drive up US 101 (the "Ventura Freeway within the sunshine" within the music made well-known by America) by Santa Barbara to San Luis Obispo, then picked up California State Freeway 1 to Morro Bay. We dropped right into a quaint motel, white with blue trim, on Christmas Eve.
Christmas morning dawned brilliant and clear. We rose early, ate breakfast, and drove out to an enormous, three-story sized rock that jutted out of the water on the fringe of the seaside, and was known as, appropriately, Morro Rock. Just a few different hardy souls had preceded us to the seaside that morning.
If you already know in regards to the Pacific Ocean off the coast of California, you already know that it’s by no means actually heat on the seaside. Windbreakers assist, however typically you want much more. On this Christmas morning, we would have liked little greater than hooded sweatshirts. As we walked, alone collectively, greeting the few passersby with "Merry Christmas," I heard the sound of the surf and the gulls overhead because the grandest symphony. It touched my soul with pleasure.
I spied a glint of white. Stooping, I uncovered an ideal sand greenback and thoroughly put it in my pocket.
On that day, my pricey husband and I have been fully in concord with one another, and with our environment. Even in the present day, on this second, if I shut my eyes, I can really feel the sand give beneeth my toes and the moist breeze cool my face.
I saved that sand greenback for greater than ten years. When my aunt died, I took it and a Yellow Rose from Texas to Kentucky. You see, my aunt liked the seaside on the Gulf Coast, down close to Lake Jackson the place she lived for quite a lot of years. She liked Texas, similar to I do, though each of us have been born in Kentucky. So I took my cherished sand greenback and the Texas rose to Kentucky to place into her casket. At the moment, placing issues in caskets was one thing few individuals did, however quickly her casket contained footage and different mementos nestled beside her, able to accompany her on her journey house.
My favourite Christmas had no tree, no superbly wrapped presents. As an alternative it was crammed with all of the issues that really mattered to me – love, the good sea, the seaside, the birds and one tiny sand greenback.