It feels as if the world is in suspended animation. Most people and things have stopped working from now until January 2nd. There's a certain eagerness in the air. Of course there are all those last minute shoppers, running around like crazy trying to find anything that will do at Walgreens. I must admit, even I had the nimbleness left in my fingers to order a book on Amazon.com, to be delivered after Christmas. Which is fine between two sisters-in-love, one a high priestess and the other a wannabe Buddhist. It is a parable for children on the Eckhart Tolle philosophy about "The Power of Now." It tells a child to look at his cat, and learn about healing and love and living in the moment even though this child is being bullied at school. It is really a profound lesson.
My sweet husband always works for the Christian doctors on this holiest of holidays. My son has his band/family, plus a very sweet girlfriend, and they are always together. And my daughter, the Jewish bride, has been enfolded into her husband's family Christmas. Last night I helped to celebrate the season with her new family and their friends. It was a lovely party, everyone in red and green tartan and satin. I delivered presents to the adult children and chocolate truffles to the new in-law hosts, chopped up pineapple and pears for dessert fondue, and walked on a trail with the newlyweds and their dogs while my new son-in-law talked with his elder father-in-law about his future. He is a hot commodity and has already been asked to interview at one of the top-rated hospitals in his field for a fellowship. A place so far out west...
Today The Couple will go to church, tomorrow they will open their gifts under a tree.
The past is done, the future we have little control over. Today is really all we have. Being mindful, meditating, knitting, practicing compassion, these are things I will aspire to in the new year. Maybe even writing more of my book, about my Mother and the House. While everyone else rejoices in the birth of a child many centuries ago, today I had to reboot my computer. It was telling me it was locked. Very much like a mind that is locked in the past (insert any name you might think of here) or a mind that is focused on the future (ditto). And now I think I will clean my desk.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Deja Vu All Over Again
Last night I was knitting. Didn't I tell you? I've taken up the hobby again, after twenty plus years of thinking I had better things to do with my time. Such as, writing, reading, cooking, cleaning, laundry, walking, gardening, dancing, gym-going....and all those years chauffeuring my children to and fro. Then there was the working too. First, doing some semi-social work, then coding for the family business, and finally writing, for an old fashioned newspaper deadline. Let's not forget being the go-to volunteer for all things school or temple, heading a committee or two, sitting on a few boards. In short, I was pretty busy in all the usual American ways of over-scheduling. I'd consigned knitting to that most ancient list of activities: the time I spent learning to weave on a loom; my quilting phase in the Berkshires; sewing tiny elephants together for crib toys as newborn presents. Yes, I admit it, I was pretty crafty back in the day when children were little and there was time on my hands. Last night, I was thinking about my first published newspaper article. It was back when we were newly marrieds and I had a baby (aka as The Bride) on my hip. I wrote about the paradox of my life in the country - about my husband putting together his first PC, lugging it up the stairs, while I was stoking the Vermont Castings wood stove. In a big hair '80s way, I asked the proverbial question, "Whatever happened to clean heat?"
So, while knitting away on my newly learned cable pattern in my 'not so big' mountain home, some thirty years later, I had the same epiphany. It was the juxtaposition of events after dinner in front of the flat screen. Our house was toasty warm after pushing a button to light the gas fireplace. I glanced over at my man on the couch who had become very quiet, when it hit me. He was deep in concentration on his Ipad! Here we were, almost thirty years later, in the same time-warp conundrum, but my reaction was quite different.
Back then, I ranted about having to keep the stove going day and night, the sound of guns in the woods while he was out there felling trees, the black ice, the mountain lion our German Shepherd treed. Memoir-like, thoughts of my foster father appeared, with his coal stove in my childhood dream home of Victory Gardens. The smoke and the mess of keeping a home fire burning in the Reagan years was eclipsed by a form of acceptance now. We are not so newly married and I no longer cringe when he finishes my sentences. His shoulders are shot from chopping and hauling logs, and my fingers are getting arthritic, like my Mother's. But we've managed to maintain this thing called marriage with a sense of wonder about our lives. I look over at the father-of-the-bride and think to myself, we did it!
A woman at a holiday party recently asked me where he went at one point, and I looked back at her and said, "I don't know." We are not prone to keep the other informed of our whereabouts at all times. But I had to smile remembering the quote under my high school yearbook picture. How to make a marriage last? Simple, it's realizing that they will always be right there through thick and thin beside you, whenever it counts.
So, while knitting away on my newly learned cable pattern in my 'not so big' mountain home, some thirty years later, I had the same epiphany. It was the juxtaposition of events after dinner in front of the flat screen. Our house was toasty warm after pushing a button to light the gas fireplace. I glanced over at my man on the couch who had become very quiet, when it hit me. He was deep in concentration on his Ipad! Here we were, almost thirty years later, in the same time-warp conundrum, but my reaction was quite different.
Back then, I ranted about having to keep the stove going day and night, the sound of guns in the woods while he was out there felling trees, the black ice, the mountain lion our German Shepherd treed. Memoir-like, thoughts of my foster father appeared, with his coal stove in my childhood dream home of Victory Gardens. The smoke and the mess of keeping a home fire burning in the Reagan years was eclipsed by a form of acceptance now. We are not so newly married and I no longer cringe when he finishes my sentences. His shoulders are shot from chopping and hauling logs, and my fingers are getting arthritic, like my Mother's. But we've managed to maintain this thing called marriage with a sense of wonder about our lives. I look over at the father-of-the-bride and think to myself, we did it!
A woman at a holiday party recently asked me where he went at one point, and I looked back at her and said, "I don't know." We are not prone to keep the other informed of our whereabouts at all times. But I had to smile remembering the quote under my high school yearbook picture. How to make a marriage last? Simple, it's realizing that they will always be right there through thick and thin beside you, whenever it counts.
Friday, December 3, 2010
The Holidays
Welcome to my world. Just got my first "holiday" card and it was from my daughter, the bride! Barely back from our Big Chill Thanksgiving week with the newlyweds in their town, I was shocked, somewhat pleased, and annoyed to open her beautiful card. She was ready to send them before Thanksgiving but we held her off until after turkey day. As you may have guessed, she is supremely organized and well, I am not. My techno-savvy daughter did it all via internet - the gorgeous sunset picture of them at the wedding with the mountains gleaming in the background, their names inscribed along with the two Irish liquored named canines on the bottom. There was nary a pen to write, a stamp to lick or an envelope to stuff. Just a click of the Christmas mouse! Meanwhile, I am still trying to find just the right picture off of the 1,200 picture CDs we received from the photographer. One where all FIVE of us are smiling and not closing our eyes. Then I will schlep it to CVS to make copies. At least I did buy all the cards, but today I'll get the stamps at the post office....as Grandma likes to say, "You get the picture!" Or maybe you won't if I don't get my act together.
I thought after marrying into the Jewish faith I was done with Christmas. Yes, it was sad, I mourned and still feel the pang of loss when my honey has to work on Christmas day cause he's the Jewish doctor. No tree for us, no egg nog and cookies. Just eight crazy nights when the kids were young, with something little each night and a big latke party thrown in there with lots of presents for good measure. Let's face it, Hannuka just can't compete with Christmas! We enjoyed caroling with our neighbors in NJ, I sent out a box of goodies to my Irish cousins, and of course my Mother and siblings had to get something...and voila, I was sending out Holiday Cards. The list grew, and this year it will grow some more since we have a new goyisha son-in-law. Somehow, there is something reassuring about handwriting a note and stuffing cards to old neighbors, friends and family. At least, I tell myself that after they are all delivered. I hate to say, but I am the one who told the new bride she must send cards, to her husband's family at least. Everything else is negotiable and totally up to them - the tree, the religion of their progeny, but not the cards!
But back to Thanksgiving. We dropped off the last of the wedding presents we'd been holding for The Couple after our ten hour drive, and arrived at the beautiful Arts and Crafts retreat house to be welcomed by at least thirty wild turkeys. There were only four couples this year, and two adult children with their dates. A small group by most Big Chill standards. We toured the Ryman Auditorium and even took in a great show of the Grand Ole Oprey! We argued over turkey doneness, and knitted and played our way back to a simpler time. We watched movies in the theatre room and hiked. This aging group of hippies had one hip replacement, and one grandbaby (with another on the way - no not mine) so far. We discussed the disappearance of an old friend and subsequently he was found, alive and well and living in Vietnam. The Groom played the piano and tried to catch up on sleep. We almost forgot to make the cranberry sauce. In other words, like most families, we all ate way too much and had a swell time! But I did learn one thing, never ever go to a mall on Black Friday!
I thought after marrying into the Jewish faith I was done with Christmas. Yes, it was sad, I mourned and still feel the pang of loss when my honey has to work on Christmas day cause he's the Jewish doctor. No tree for us, no egg nog and cookies. Just eight crazy nights when the kids were young, with something little each night and a big latke party thrown in there with lots of presents for good measure. Let's face it, Hannuka just can't compete with Christmas! We enjoyed caroling with our neighbors in NJ, I sent out a box of goodies to my Irish cousins, and of course my Mother and siblings had to get something...and voila, I was sending out Holiday Cards. The list grew, and this year it will grow some more since we have a new goyisha son-in-law. Somehow, there is something reassuring about handwriting a note and stuffing cards to old neighbors, friends and family. At least, I tell myself that after they are all delivered. I hate to say, but I am the one who told the new bride she must send cards, to her husband's family at least. Everything else is negotiable and totally up to them - the tree, the religion of their progeny, but not the cards!
But back to Thanksgiving. We dropped off the last of the wedding presents we'd been holding for The Couple after our ten hour drive, and arrived at the beautiful Arts and Crafts retreat house to be welcomed by at least thirty wild turkeys. There were only four couples this year, and two adult children with their dates. A small group by most Big Chill standards. We toured the Ryman Auditorium and even took in a great show of the Grand Ole Oprey! We argued over turkey doneness, and knitted and played our way back to a simpler time. We watched movies in the theatre room and hiked. This aging group of hippies had one hip replacement, and one grandbaby (with another on the way - no not mine) so far. We discussed the disappearance of an old friend and subsequently he was found, alive and well and living in Vietnam. The Groom played the piano and tried to catch up on sleep. We almost forgot to make the cranberry sauce. In other words, like most families, we all ate way too much and had a swell time! But I did learn one thing, never ever go to a mall on Black Friday!
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