Keeping the Light On (Joy Oladokun)

First of all, if you haven't seen tonight's Full Moon, go go go outside *now* to view!  Also, I am making Moon Water, even as I type... 🌕

Chico and I watched Love Actually Friday night, for the first time this season (finally!).

Saturday was Garden Day and, after posting my "report"... as is my custom, I went off the grid for 48-ish hours.  On Christmas Eve Day (Sunday), we met up with Sarah and Colin to watch Migration in the movie theater (3D!), and then to Sarah's to enjoy subs for dinner and a bit of hangtime with Colin before he left out cookies (which we made!) and milk for Santa/apples for the reindeer, then headed home.

I was very much dreading Christmas Day (Monday) with the family but, thanks to our love and patience with each other, I was surrounded by peace and even glimmers of joy.  From the fab brunch (each item more yummy than the next)... to the perfect presents (Rob's rose-colored glasses for everyone won Christmas!)... to Colin taking great delight in helping open *our* presents too before he left to go to his Dad's for the rest of the day... to a very sweet conversation about E (all the emotions)... to Scrabble (Sarah, who balked at playing, ended up in second place, only 1 point behind Rob; I, who normally kicks everyone's *ss💥💥💥 (see below), had vowels throughout 2/3 of the game and couldn't manage to catch up)... to the Taylor Swift Eras movie in the background... to Chinese food for dinner... it was a beautiful day from start to finish.  Naturally Colin brightened things up and there was much laughter.  

Also, Sarah found this Acoustic Christmas Spotify playlist, which we listened to all day and, honestly, I may continue into 2024.  Beautiful... 💖

Late last night (still Christmas), I sipped on a mug of decaf coffee infused with a hot cocoa bomb and marshmallows and felt... dare I say... content?  We *are* an amazing family.  I love them so much, and am very proud of us all for navigating this difficult journey.  Today marks three months since Eric died.  We made it through our second First without E.  In this morning's MossFam text thread, Sarah called it "a surprisingly peaceful day"... ॐ

Hoping you and yours experienced much love, as well as the perfect balance of celebration and comfort... 🥳🕉 

💥💥💥Part of our family conversation yesterday touched on my competitive nature (which only rears its ugly head during board games); Sarah described my style throughout the decades:  "the b*tch has never rolled over"... 🤣

SONG:  Keeping the Light On by Joy Oladokun

BOOK:  Surviving the Holidays Without You: Navigating Grief During Special Seasons by Gary Roe

POEM(S):  

Not knowing when

the dawn will come

I open every

door.

~ Emily Dickinson

What is born in you this day? by Beth Weaver-Kreider

What 

Yulelight

Candlelight

Christlight

Heartlight

Moonlight 

will shine forth from your eyes

from the tips of your fingers

from the well of your heart

from the root of your soul

to bless the world today?

May you know the light

feel the light

bear the light

be the light.

I Heard a Bird Sing by Oliver Herford

I heard a bird sing

In the dark of December.

A magical thing

And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring 

Than we were in September,” 

I heard a bird sing 

In the dark of December. 

Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower by Rainer Maria Rilke

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.

Let this darkness be a bell tower

and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.

Move back and forth into the change.

What is it like, such intensity of pain?

If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,

be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,

the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,

say to the silent earth: I flow.

To the rushing water, speak: I am.

Peace Enters My Heart by Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg

peace enters my heart,

though I have touched-

the chaos of my living,

it sometimes wears-

on my soul,

I settle inside,

the sanctuary

of the season,

it clothes me in rest-

I am tethered to the stars,

that rest their light on-

a winters night,

I rise with the light-

of a thousand suns,

settling on my memory-

with bright exultation, 

I come to greet the day,

with tenderness of love-

reaching inside,

this quiet-

silent night morning- 

let it move from me,

songs that echo-

from the angels singing,

peace on earth,

peace on earth,

goodwill to men-

to all of humanity,

to all creatures-

settling in sacred rest,  

it is from my heart-

a beginning is birthed,

I reach-

and take your hand,

we enter into-

our holy place,

of comfort and love-

of forgiving grace,

towards ourselves-

towards the world,

for what abides with me-

this morning of brilliant becoming,

is our constant-

our shining that guides us,

even in our darkest of times. 

QUOTE(S):  “To comfort a grieving friend, just say anything; it doesn’t have to be perfect. Grief can feel very lonely (like the poem ‘Stop All the Clocks’), so it’s very comforting when a friend recognizes your loss and what a big deal it is. Instead of platitudes (‘everything happens for a reason’), just say something that feels authentic, even if it’s just ‘I wish I knew what to say,’ or ‘I love you, and this really sucks.’” ~ Lucy Kalanithi

"Although our loved ones may not be around, their spirit lives on in every joyful moment we share during the Christmas season." ~ Unknown 

It's Christmastime (Let's Just Survive) (Kathleen Edwards)

I bought a Nativity set (at Sears, of all places!) our first Christmas in Puerto Rico (1985), which means it's 38 years old now.  When they were younger, our tradition was for each child to take turns putting the characters in a place of their own choosing. The only rule was that the Baby Jesus could not be in the hayloft (since Mary and Joseph didn't fit up there as well).  Somehow it always managed to go smoothly and cooperatively.

When we sold our house and downsized to the condo five years ago, we had all the kids (now grown) over and did a schoolyard pick of the ornaments and various decorations.  Rob chose the Nativity and, since he and E lived together for four years, they continued the ritual.  This year will actually *not* be our First Christmas Without Eric; last year was, since E went with Duyen and her parents to a cabin in North Carolina for the holidays.  Before he left town, he texted the above photo to Rob... 💞

P.S.  Speaking of Rob... Happy Birthday to my Middle Child!  We gathered together for a Family Birthday Dinner this evening, and invited his friend Leslie (who is a darling).  Happy Fish Sushi:  Delicious food, beautiful ambience, stunning presentation; we'll be back.. 🍣

If you haven’t sent cards this year, or forgotten someone’s gift.

If you don’t have matching pyjamas or a festive family photograph.

It’s okay.

If you can’t find the energy to be merry and bright,

or your tree isn’t even decorated yet.

That’s really just fine.

If you don’t feel like watching your favourite Christmas movies, or honouring the traditions that you normally always do.

Don’t sweat it, my friend.

This year has been hard, for many.

Really hard.

If you can’t see a way to celebrating like you have in the past, don’t worry.

Just hang on in there, finding any joy you can in any little way.

Just make it through till next year.

One day at a time.

We need you.

Hang on in there.

You are loved.

~ Donna Ashworth

Referencing the poem below... in our case, today is 12 weeks (and a week from today makes *three* months) since Eric died:

SONG:  It's Christmastime (Let's Just Survive) by Kathleen Edwards

BOOK:  Michael Rosen's Sad Book by Michael Rosen

POEM(S):  Two Months after My Son Died by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

for MS

She gave me an hour.

Since then, every minute

has grown from the soil

of that time.

She gave me silence.

It was the wisest teaching.

She did not know me.

She deeply understood my heart.

There was a time

when she, too,

was met with unthinkable loss.

Now she knows

to say the name

of the one who is gone.

She knows not to fix.

She knows the gift

of being seen.

She asked for nothing

in return.

Over a year later,

I remember how she listened

with her eyes.

I remember the generosity

of her gaze.

She lit a candle for my child,

a golden light

on a bed of amethyst.

With that flame,

she has lit hundreds more

through my hand.

Sometimes I wonder

where her flame began,

I think of all the hands

lighting all the candles.

How beautiful that light.

How far we have come

from the dark we have known.

by john roedel

the wounds in our hearts

seem to ache a little deeper

during the holidays

don't feel like you

need to cover your wounded

heart in wrapping paper

this Christmas

you don't have to

tie the corners

of your lips with

garland to force

a smile

you don't have to

keep whistling

"silent night" to keep

people from noticing

your bottom lip is trembling

you don't have to blame

an allergy to nutmeg

for why you are walking

around with tears in your

eyes

for this Christmas

give yourself

permission

to feel whatever you

need to

last night

I was visited

by the ghost

of yuletide Heartbreak

she told me this:

it's okay to not be okay

on Christmas

it's okay to be melancholy

under the mistletoe

it's okay to come apart

while they are caroling

it's okay to trace your scars with your fingers

while others are humming ‘Holy Night’

it's okay to miss the presence of your beloved

amid the sound of opening presents

it's okay, my love,

to hurt during the holidays

don't stuff your stockings

with your suffering

don't hide your healing

during the holidays

give yourself the gift

of being authentic to yourself

it's okay to not be okay

during Christmas

it's okay to let the broken

pieces inside of you 

be the only jingle bells you

hear

because, my love, because,

it means you are still fighting

to stay alive

and I can't think of anything 

more to celebrate than that 

Talking to Grief by Denise Levertov

Ah, grief, I should not treat you

like a homeless dog

who comes to the back door

for a crust, for a meatless bone.

I should trust you.

I should coax you

into the house and give you

your own corner,

a worn mat to lie on,

your own water dish.

You think I don't know you've been living

under my porch.

You long for your real place to be readied

before winter comes. You need

your name,

your collar and tag. You need

the right to warn off intruders,

to consider my house your own

and me your person

and yourself

my own dog.

Christmas To Do List by Brian Bilston

• delay • defer • equivocate

• make some tea • procrastinate

• look at phone • stroke the cat

• readjust the thermostat

• dawdle • dither • hem and haw

• eat mince pie • chew my jaw

• write a card • spin on chair

• play six games of solitaire

• take a break • make a brew

• review my list of things to do

• eat mince pie • paper scrunch

• stroke the cat • have some lunch

• prioritise new tasks to shirk

(more cups of tea + less housework)

• look at phone • spin on chair

• eat mince pie • loiter • stare

• consider shopping • have quick doze

• rest mince pie on bridge of nose

• stroke the cat • take a break

• write a card • eat some cake

• spin phone • mince cat • stroke tea • wallow

• write To Do list for tomorrow

QUOTE(S):  “Grief, as I read somewhere once, is a lazy Susan. One day it is heavy and underwater, and the next day it spins and stops at loud and rageful, and the next day at wounded keening, and the next day at numbness, silence.” ~ Anne Lamott

"And in the quiet, I hear the echo of your absence.  In the stillness, in the silence, my heart aches with emptiness.  Loss is so loud.  Oh, loss is so loud." ~ Liz Newman

“When you meet someone in deep grief, slip off your shoes and set them by the door.  Enter barefoot, this darkened chapel hollowed by loss, hallowed by sorrow, its grey stone walls and floor.  You, congregation of one, are here to listen, not to sing.  Kneel in the back pew, make no sound, let the candles speak.” ~ Patricia McKernon Runkle

"What greater grief can there be for mortals than to see their children dead." ~ Euripedes 

Even When the Light is Low (Tom Prasada-Rao)

When last we left our SheRa, she (and her husband) had tested positive for COVID (double ugh).  Our first time and, in the grand scheme of things, it seemed to be a fairly mild case (other than that hacking cough and phlegmy build-up).  It almost seemed a relief to have an excuse to lay low and cancel commitments (not that my calendar is that full these days anyway).  The weakness/fatigue continues though.

I was negative by Friday, meaning I could go to Sarah's that evening for her Christmas tree decorating; Rob joined us too, the background music was of course The Roches' We Three Kings (a family tradition), and we could almost pretend it was just like it used to be.  Silly Me!

Being well again, it was lovely to get back to our bereavement group (3rd attendance); I love those women (and a few men), who are so kind and loving and suffering too.  My 2nd therapy appointment was also amazing; she's a wonderful listener, asks just the right questions, and provides A-ha! moments that comfort as well as enlighten me.

Duyen (E's girlfriend) sent us back to Florida with a box of Eric's belongings, and we finally tackled those; I kept a hooded rainjacket/windbreaker that I know will come in handy, a denim jacket with a cloth hoodie, and a sweater... and Chico a few tank tops (he's especially delighted with the Pink Floyd design).  We gave Sarah a few shirts, Colin a hiking/gardening hat, and Rob a nice jacket and lots of ties (two of which were actually his to begin with - ha!).  Everything else we will donate.

Oh, and we chose button-down shirts for the teddy bears that my friend Suzanne offered to make for each of us.  No deadline, sweet memories... 💗

Speaking of Memories... I'm also trying to move forward with two separate plans for remembrance:  a tree in a City of Pembroke Pines park... and a bench in the Hope Garden, both with plaques.  I will keep you all posted.

I'm sure it's the residual tiredness from COVID, and grief brain fog, but I feel very "out of it" these days... as if I'm detached from participation in life and only looking down from above, in observation mode.  I've pretty much decided not to decorate for Christmas this year; the thought of hauling boxes from our storage locker down the hall is daunting and exhausting.  The box with the front door wreath is on the top shelf, so I'll get that down and installed.  I also just bought myself a Christmas (well, a gnome) mug, which I will use every day during the season.  No Santa collection, no Buddha with the Santa hat, regular (instead of holiday) candles; I. Just. Can't. Do. It. This. Year... and that's okay... 🎅🎄🎁

P.S.  Today marks ten weeks since Eric died... 💔

SONG:  Even When the Light is Low by Tom Prasada-Rao (written 11.7.23)

BOOK:  It's OK That You're Not OK: Meeting Grief and Loss in a Culture That Doesn't Understand by Megan Devine, Mark Nepo (Foreword)

POEM(S):  I Want My Grief by Peg Runnels

to be brilliant, fast and gone.

Like Mozart. Or Stevie Ray.

Like fireworks. Boom! Flash!

Ooh, ahh. OK, done. Let’s go.

I want my grief to be brave.

Hurts more now, heals faster,

Grandma said, pouring salt

On a skinned knee.

I want to stand up to grief,

Stand it down, like the

Tiny man, big tank

In Tiananmen Square.

Because. Because if I am brave,

Bold, salty, open enough

The tank, the bleeding, the tears

Will stop sooner. I tell myself.

But grief laughs. Humbles me.

I lose keys, break cups, get lost.

Asked at CarMax Why are you

Selling this car? I burst

Into an embarrassment of tears.

A friend says, One doesn’t have grief,

Grief has you.

We wrestle, to the mat. I’m pinned.

But sometimes I break free.

Break patterns instead of dishes.

Start to write myself a new story,

To fling myself toward yes,

Begin to say, Oh. Now this. . . . Observe

What life brings. Reframe. Say,

I’m not wrestling grief,

We’re dancing.

So, I put my right foot in . . .

And turn myself about.

Yes by William Stafford

It could happen any time, tornado,

earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.

Or sunshine, love, salvation.

It could, you know. That’s why we wake

and look out – no guarantees

in this life.

But some bonuses, like morning,

like right now, like noon,

like evening.

What the Day Gives by Jeanne Lohmann

Suddenly, sun. Over my shoulder

in the middle of gray November

what I hoped to do comes back,

asking.

Across the street the fiery trees

hold onto their leaves,

red and gold in the final months

of this unfinished year,

they offer blazing riddles.

In the frozen fields of my life

there are no shortcuts to spring,

but stories of great birds in migration

carrying small ones on their backs,

predators flying next to warblers

they would, in a different season, eat.

Stunned by the astonishing mix in this uneasy world

that plunges in a single day from despair

to hope and back again, I commend my life

to Ruskin’s difficult duty of delight,

and to that most beautiful form of courage,

to be happy.

QUOTE:  “Life is a hard battle anyway. If we laugh and sing a little as we fight the good fight of freedom, it makes it all go easier. I will not allow my life’s light to be determined by the darkness around me.” ~ Sojourner Truth

All I Want for Christmas (is World Peace) - (Timbuk3)

Fact:  The last time I posted here was August 22, 2022.  

Thought:  I will stop apologizing... to myself, as well as to whomever might be reading this blog.  

Intention:  I have vowed to post more often, starting today, with no obligatory schedule, because I love to write and I miss it when I don't.  So mote it be... 💖

Interesting in that, when I began this blog draft earlier in the week, I had written:  "My life is pretty d*mn amazing right now".  Whew, what a difference three days makes, right?  Yet I am improving my ability to channel my inner Kahlil Gibran, reminding myself that without sorrow we wouldn't know joy.  Family Drama:  normal.  Overwhelmedness (especially at this time of year):  typical.  Disrupted Sleep Patterns:  horrible during the pandemic, evened out, back to sporadic 3 a.m. two-hour bouts of reading until I get tired enough to try again.

However, I appear to uncharacteristically have my sh*t together this Christmas... and it's still 11 days away!  The house is decorated; I actually put out my Santa collection this year (which I hadn't for a few), and am so much enjoying the vibe as well as the stories behind each one.  Season's Greetings cards will go in the mail early next week.  (Most of the) Presents are wrapped.  My Spotify holiday playlist is in process of being created; then I will share.  This all feels too good to be true. Who am I and what have I done with Susan?!?  Will publish this post and read for a few hours until my modus operandi of panic and frenzy creeps back in (ha ha ha ha ha!)... 💞

In the meantime, some specific moments of loveliness (as well as hilarity):

~ We were invited to join Sarah and Colin, along with J (her boyfriend) and his four kids plus his sister and her daughter, as well as both sets of G families at the Oasis Church for their annual holiday lights extravaganza, complete with train ride... fake snow (Colin:  "it's just bubbles, Lala!)... old-school Frosty the Snowman movie projected on the building wall... popcorn/S'Mores/hot chocolate... and Christmas trivia.  Okay, so temps are still in the 70s-80s here; it's the Spirit that counts, right?... and our Caravan of Chaos had plenty of that... 🎄

~ A few nights later we went to Sarah's to assist in decorating her tree; more stories with each ornament:  the glitter-card-lace Taco Bell ashtray (Sarah's Girl Scout Troop creation, when they still allowed smoking in restaurants!)... Dad's Favorite Child (bought at Cracker Barrel decades ago on a trip to Atlanta for Christmas; yes, each of our three received one, and Rob's is black, to differentiate his from Eric's!)... a glass heart with Colin's handprint, which Sarah helped him make during the pandemic/Christmas 2020!.  The final touch was tinsel (which my mom loved and I always hated, because it made such a mess), and we had fun showing Colin how to gently separate two or three strands and place them at the end of a branch (my mom's modus operandi).  And, when we sat down to admire our handiwork, Sarah played two special songs on her phone:  My Way (my mom's all-time favorite), and Silent Night (my husband's dad's favorite carol).  Bliss!

~ My niece's partner is a kindergarten teacher, and she asked on Facebook for donations of books to her 20 students; pick a number and she would assign us a child, and we could choose from a pre-determined Wish List.  I offered up 8, I got Emmett ("a boy's boy", she said); her offerings were sweet abd thoughtful but, reading her description of his personality made me want to introduce him to the story of my favorite pacifist bull (noted below), so I asked L, if she deemed it appropriate, to please add it to her list.  Hard to believe it was published in 1936, 86 years ago!  Still so relevant and, because it's such a classic, I sent the hardcover edition... ☮

~ Hilarious meme:

Speaking of, I haven't yet had my annual viewing of the latter yet (the Joni CD was better than that d*mn garish necklace anyway... right, Emma?); also, did you know about The Laughter & Secrets of Love Actually: 20 Years Later (a Diane Sawyer Special) on Hulu?  I highly recommend!

NR (Now Reading):  Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver; set in Appalachia, it's a modern re-telling of David Copperfield and, although only a third of the way through, I'm captivated!

SONG:  All I Want for Christmas (is World Peace) - (Timbuk3)

BOOK:  The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf (illustrated by Robert Lawson)

POEM:  Nest by Jeffrey Harrison

It wasn’t until we got the Christmas tree

into the house and up on the stand

that our daughter discovered a small bird’s nest

tucked among its needled branches.

Amazing, that the nest had made it

all the way from Nova Scotia on a truck

mashed together with hundreds of other trees

without being dislodged or crushed.

 

And now it made the tree feel wilder,

a balsam fir growing in our living room,

as though at any moment a bird might flutter

through the house and return to the nest.

And yet, because we’d brought the tree indoors,

we’d turned the nest into the first ornament.

So we wound the tree with strings of lights,

draped it with strands of red beads,

and added the other ornaments, then dropped

two small brass bells into the nest, like eggs

containing music, and hung a painted goldfinch

from the branch above, as if to keep them warm.

QUOTE:  "Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a songbird will come." ~ Chinese proverb

Merry Something to You (Devo)

Checking in a few days after the holiday to share that we had a lovely get-together at Sarah's on Christmas Day!  One of my favorite family traditions is that we limit our gifts for each other to $25 and, even with a cap, everyone chooses such thoughtful presents.  Something new in the last handful of years is that our three adult children take the time to write heartfelt and inspirational greetings in their cards to us and each other which, we all know, is the best gift of all.  I wept (as I always do) at their words of joy, hope, love, and gratitude.

We are leisurely with opening presents, one at a time, so we can appreciate what everyone is receiving.  About halfway through, Colin started having a meltdown, perfectly understandable as he'd had a looooong day, with a very short nap.  In an attempt to help, Eric said, "I love you, Colin!", and C replied:  "no love me!", and we all cracked up at his two-year-old reaction.  Sarah immediately suggested we still-pause the gift exchange and go outside for a while so he could run around and release some energy, which was totally effective (she's such a good and intuitive mom... 💗 )

Adorable and typical (as any parent can tell you) is that Sarah gave Colin five Santa presents, and attached to each was a Dollar Tree plastic animal (he loves animals of all kinds):  zebra, elephant, giraffe, hippo, and tiger... and of course that was all he wanted to play with the entire day (not the actual presents... :-)

Because we were inside, albeit masked, socially-distanced, and doors and windows open, we ordered Chinese food for dinner; dessert was a ginormous box of Russell Stover chocolates from the two girls' soccer teams that Chico coaches (along with a generous gift card).

Running jokes throughout the course of the day, sure to elicit a smile/guffaw for months to come:  "I got a robe" (Rob shared the hilarious SNL skit with me last week!) and "Colin's fake hot dog has gone MIA".

Yesterday a friend and I were having a text discussion re: Post-Holiday Blahs/Blues/Winter Doldrums, and I followed up with this e-mail:

"I've got 'em too, but not nearly as bad as I thought I would.  For one thing, the only holiday "trappings" I brought out were the front-door wreath and the doormat, and those can easily be tucked away again on the Monday after New Year's (or even the Wednesday as, when we lived in Puerto Rico, Christmas wasn't *really* over until January 6, The Epiphany).

I have let so many things go this season, when the former me might have had a few more meltdowns along the way.   Both Sarah's *and* Rob's presents to me were slowed down in the mail system (as was my friend Judi's!), and my new Delayed Gratification/F*ck It self just thinks, "well, I will enjoy them when they *do* arrive!".  My mantra these days seems to be "Who am I and what have I done with Susan?!?"  I am trying so hard to be Kinder, Gentler, Softer, More Patient, More Forgiving, More Understanding, More Aware... <3

I am also working very hard on my communication skills, with family as well as friends.  Attempting to "say what I mean, mean what I say, and do what I say I'm going to do"... which I learned in a parenting seminar when Sarah was in middle school (25 years ago).  Hey, if the foo sh*ts, right?

Had a great talk with L last week, and we discussed that, during this challenging time, we are both going to focus on meaning and purpose in the New Year.  I greatly miss having a true sense of both.

So, yeah... I have the blues/blahs/mullygrubs but I seem, so far, to have shaken off the need to wallow.  I do possess:  family (however flawed, as am I... except for Colin, who is perfect!), books (so many books!), music (beautiful songs!), friends (so very dear), healthy food choices, a dependable body that allows me to take it out for hour-long walks (almost) every day, boundless sunshine, hot cocoa and Kahlua (just a splash!), FakeUggs, comforting and colorful scarves, enough earrings to sink a battleship, intelligence, kindness, humor, integrity, gratitude, an appropriate balance of joy and sorrow.  And just like that... counting my blessings has moved my blues, if not off the table completely, at least to a back burner (mixed metaphor, anyone?... :-)

I am going to hit Send before this turns into War and Peace.  Whoops, too late!"

And... Nothing Says Christmas like Parlour Vegan's Non-Binary Gingerbread Person... 💖

NR:  Between the World and Me by by Ta-Nehisi Coates

SONG:  Merry Something to You by Devo

BOOK:  December Holidays from around the World by Baby Professor

POEM:  December 26 by Kenn Nesbitt

A BB gun.

A model plane.

A basketball.

A ’lectric train.

A bicycle.

A cowboy hat.

A comic book.

A baseball bat.

A deck of cards.

A science kit.

A racing car.

A catcher’s mitt.

So that’s my list

of everything

that Santa Claus

forgot to bring.

 

QUOTE:  “Have you ever held a three-year-old by the hand on the way home from preschool?” “No.” “You’re never more important than you are then.” ~ Fredrik Bachman, Anxious People

Merry Xmas Everybody (Oasis)

Merry Christmas, Everybody!

Received the following text from Sarah at the beginning of the week:

Hi Family! Wanted to chat regarding Christmas Eve Day. Whoever is free, could maybe come over for a pajama brunch at 10 am? I was going to make pumpkin pancakes, decorate a Gingerbread house, read the Polar Express, Hot Chocolate, leave cookies and milk for Santa and have a dance party to holiday music :)

And we (well, unfortunately Eric had to work, but the rest of us) really did do all that yesterday (✔✔✔✔✔✔✔).  She made sure the pancakes were vegan; we sipped on homemade (also vegan) coquito (a coconut-flavored eggnog which we used to drink when we lived in Puerto Rico) that a co-worker of hers had made and gifted her for Christmas; I wore my mother's red nightshirt printed with little white snowflakes atop my Christmas lights leggings; we were each supposed to choose three holiday songs for the dance party (mine were Santa Claus is Coming to Town covered by Bruuuuuuce, Merry Christmas from the Family by Robert Earl Keen, and Juliana Hatfield's Make It Home, which I first heard on an episode of My So-Called Life a bazillion years ago); Rob read from his copy of The Polar Express, given to him by my "friendRobby" (that's what they called each other) when he was four; the gingerbread house is constructed and still has to be decorated (later today!). 

When I walked down to my car to head home, I discovered that my battery was dead; someone (me!) had left their headlights on.  thankyoujesus for AAA, and Brandon to the rescue.  Quick fix, and a lesson on perspective.

Came home to a nap, then my walk (got rained on; f*ck it, I kept going!), a hot shower, leftover chili for dinner, and finally curled up with Love Actually, which I hadn't watched yet this season.  Oh, and wrapped presents (i.e. put in gift bags and topped with tissue paper.  Ha!).

Today we are headed back to Sarah's (as soon as I hit Send!), still masked, still socially-distant, doors and windows open, for our present exchange.  Temps will have dropped substantially, with a high of 60, and a low of 43; mmmm, time to drag out the FUggs (Faux Uggs... ;-)  I've been watching Martha Stewart's new show on HGTV (Martha Knows Best) and bought all the fixings to make Marthatinis.  Yum!

We also have a short Zoom call planned with extended family in the Atlanta area (zippity!), and will order Chinese food to be delivered about 4 or 5 p.m. and take it outside to eat.

Wishing you all a most spectacular holiday, however and with whomever you decide to spend it, and love Love and MORE LOVE... 💞

SONG:  Merry Xmas Everybody by Oasis

BOOK:  Merry Christmas Everybody! (A Sesame Street Golden Super Shape Book) by Constance Allen, David Prebenna (Illustrator)

POEM:  When Giving Is All We Have by Alberto Rios

                                              One river gives

                                              Its journey to the next.

We give because someone gave to us.

We give because nobody gave to us.

We give because giving has changed us.

We give because giving could have changed us.

We have been better for it,

We have been wounded by it—

Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,

Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.

Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,

But we read this book, anyway, over and again:

Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,

Mine to yours, yours to mine.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.

Together we are simple green. You gave me

What you did not have, and I gave you

What I had to give—together, we made

Something greater from the difference.

QUOTE:  "Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around." ~ the opening lines of Love Actually, spoken by Hugh Grant's character (which always make me cry, and last night was no exception)

The Lights and Buzz (Jack's Mannequin)

[click photo to "biggen", as my friend Pat used to say! ]

Well, obviously... these 2020 holidays have wreaked havoc with tradition, ritual, and get-togethers.  We can invoke the time-honored cliches of "lemonade from lemons", "make the best of it", "Plan Q"... but there's going to be a wrench in our hearts when we remember what was, and what could have been, and what won't happen this year.

I think I'm a funny person anyway (some of you may not agree), and I seem to be invoking humor a *lot* these last 9 1/2 months, trying not to be snarky but, at the same time, making it real.  The pandemic has forced us to be more creative in how we celebrate and how we gather, and my catch phrase has become "Nothing says Christmas like...", which is now a game:

~ Nothing says Christmas like... Jurassic Quest in the BB&T parking lot which, crazy as it sounds, was a super-fun outing Sarah invited me to share with her and Colin... and about 50 animatronic dinosaurs, complete with roars, squeaks, and an audio narration as you drive along at bumper-to-bumper speed, much slower than the 5-miles-per-hour they discourage you from exceeding!

~ Nothing says Christmas like... Disney princesses, Mickey Mouse, Ninja Turtles, and Olaf, right?  There is (pictured above) a house in our old Pembroke Lakes neighborhood that has been overdecorating for twenty years, adding new features along the way and, this year, making the path one-way in an attempt to keep things safer for all.  Just when you think you've seen it all, you haven't.  They even featured the leg lamp from A Christmas Story.  Fra-gee-lay... 😍

Nothing says Christmas like... seeing Santa at Bass Pro Shops, two concepts you'd never think to hear in the same sentence.  There was plexiglass involved... sigh, and hooray... 💞

Nothing says Christmas like... watching Holidate, a hilarious and irreverent film (on Netflix) that is surely the anti-Hallmark (and that's a good thing for me, Martha!), which you realize in the first seven minutes when one of the characters has a line of dialogue that's not repeatable here, but make sure you're not eating or drinking anything so as to avoid a spit-take.  I loved it, but your mileage may vary (which won't keep me from loving it!).

The non-snarky events of these last few weeks:

~ Listening to the Hipster Holidays Pandora station on my phone while I'm out on my walk

~ Surprising Rob for his birthday at his job in Pembroke Gardens 

~ Enjoying an Extended Family (the MossFam6 plus my sister, her husband, daughter and daughter's roomie; my brother couldn't make it) Zoom call.  How lovely to see everyone, even virtually, as it had been much too long... and we've vowed to do them regularly!

"It's good to be alive!" indeed... 💖

NR:  The Caregiver by Samuel Park

SONG:  The Lights and Buzz by Jack's Mannequin

BOOK:  Share Some Kindness, Bring Some Light by Apryl Stott (Author, Illustrator)

POEM:  Yellow Glove by Naomi Shihab Nye

What can a yellow glove mean in a world of motorcars and governments?

I was small, like everyone. Life was a string of precautions: Don't kiss the squirrel before you bury him, don't suck candy, pop balloons, drop watermelons, watch TV. When the new gloves appeared one Christmas, tucked in soft tissue, I heard it trailing me: Don't lose the yellow gloves.

I was small, there was too much to remember. One day, waving at a stream — the ice had cracked, winter chipping down, soon we would sail boats and roll into ditches — I let a glove go. Into the stream, sucked under the street. Since when did streets have mouths? I walked home on a desperate road. Gloves cost money. We didn't have much. I would tell no one. I would wear the yellow glove that was left and keep the other hand in a pocket. I knew my mother's eyes had tears they had not cried yet, I didn't want to be the one to make them flow. It was the prayer I spoke secretly, folding socks, lining up donkeys in windowsills. To be good, a promise made to the roaches who scouted my closet at night. If you don't get in my bed, I will be good. And they listened. I had a lot to fulfill.

The months rolled down like towels out of a machine. I sang and drew and fattened the cat. Don't scream, don't lie, don't cheat, don't fight — you could hear it anywhere. A pebble could show you how to be smooth, tell the truth. A field could show how to sleep without walls. A stream could remember how to drift and change — next June I was stirring the stream like a soup, telling my brother dinner would be ready if he'd only hurry up with the bread when I saw it. The yellow glove draped on a twig. A muddy survivor. A quiet flag.

Where had it been in the three gone months? I could wash it, fold it in my winter drawer with its sister, no one in that world would ever know. There were miracles on Harvey Street. Children walked home in yellow light. Trees were reborn and gloves traveled far, but returned. A thousand miles later, what can a yellow glove mean in a world of bankbooks and stereos?

Part of the difference between floating and going down.

QUOTE:  "After church on the Sunday after Thanksgiving, my family would go chop down our Christmas tree. Once it was home and placed in its stand, Mom and I would painstakingly decorate our tree. It took hours to place the tinsel, string the lights, find the perfect spot for my favorite macaroni and felt ornaments from kindergarten." ~ Molly O'Keefe

Christmas Everyday (The Frights)

As per my post a few weeks ago... I seem to have lost my concentration a lot lately (ha ha ha ha ha!).

A dear friend recently said:  "Sometimes this COVID life feels like Groundhog Day, one pretty much identical day after the other", which I think is a spot-on description.  It's been described as Corona Fatigue, and we're all just so d*mn tired, both physically and emotionally, that it's easy to let go of our safety standards of masks and social distancing... but, this is why the numbers of illnesses are creeping up again, and why 300,000 people are needlessly dead.  Stay the course, people!

This has definitely been a weird holiday season, and I personally have felt no desire to decorate.  What's the point, when the only person who's been inside our condo since mid-March is the Total A/C guy?  I did at least visit our storage unit down the hall and dragged out the Jingle Bell wreath and the Joy doormat for our front door/entrance.  From the outside, we appear festive... :-)

The Santas will not be making an appearance this year, but I have vowed to head back to the storage unit, rummage through the Rubbermaid containers, and find:  the Santa hat for my Buddha; a few holiday candles; holiday gift bags (I did buy presents that need wrapping, you know!); and the ceramic light-up tree that always reminds me of my mom's.  Okay, maybe a few holiday mugs, the better to drink my hot cocoa with vegan marshmallows and a splash of Kahlua in.  Maybe a holiday dishtowel or two.  Okay, that's it!  No more!  Just trying to walk that fine line between Ho Ho Ho and Bah, Humbug.

And, of course, typing all this, I am reminded of the passage from How the Grinch Stole Christmas:

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,

stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? 

It came without ribbons. It came without tags. 

It came without packages, boxes or bags. 

And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. 

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. 

What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. 

What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

I think many hearts will grow three sizes this holiday season and, as much as we will miss certain traditions and regret the opportunity to gather in larger numbers, we will cherish who and what we have to be grateful for, and count our blessings that we are not among the 300,000... and we will continue to strive for non-fear-based precautions, knowing we are making smart decisions to find our way to the other side of this, however and whenever that is defined.

For now, let's just find whatever coping mechanisms work for us, and enjoy this special time of year the best we can... 💖 

NR:  Conjure Women by Afia Atakora

SONG:  Christmas Everyday by The Frights

BOOK:  Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May

POEM: Next by Jeffrey Harrison

It wasn't until we got the Christmas tree

into the house and up on the stand

that our daughter discovered a small bird's nest

tucked among its needled branches.

Amazing, that the nest had made it

all the way from Nova Scotia on a truck

mashed together with hundreds of other trees

without being dislodged or crushed.

And now it made the tree feel wilder,

a balsam fir growing in our living room,

as though at any moment a bird might flutter

through the house and return to the nest.

And yet, because we'd brought the tree indoors,

we'd turned the nest into the first ornament.

So we wound the tree with strings of lights,

draped it with strands of red beads,

and added the other ornaments, then dropped

two small brass bells into the nest, like eggs

containing music, and hung a painted goldfinch

from the branch above, as if to keep them warm.

QUOTE:  "The thing about Christmas is that it almost doesn't matter what mood you're in or what kind of a year you've had - it's a fresh start." ~ Kelly Clarkson