The Spirit of the Season...

Since the beginning of time, or at least, since humans realized that the days were shorter and the nights longer, in the winter, we have celebrated the winter solstice.  Different cultures have recognized the time as a rebirth, of sorts, and celebrated with holidays and festivals.

For centuries, different cultures have commemorated the rededication of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem with a holiday occurring near the winter solstice.  And other cultures have celebrated the birth of the Christ Child in a manger, in a stable, in the Middle East.  More recently, it has become a time to honor African-American heritage and culture.

In a song, it’s the most wonderful time of the year.  Yet, that’s hard for some to accept.  Was it wonderful when loved ones were thousands of miles away, in harm’s way, fighting a war?  Was it wonderful in 1929 when the Stock Market had just crashed?  Is it wonderful today, with double digit unemployment?  It’s double digit where I live, anyway….

Ah, and the nightly news does nothing to make things merry and bright, does it?  Unspeakable crimes, political shenanigans, death, destruction and despair rule the airwaves, it seems.  Just yesterday, there was a story about a small town north of Podunk, where all the toys donated to make Christmas “merry” for needy children were stolen….

Tonight, on the news, they showed the long line of cars full of people waiting to donate toys to replace those that were stolen.  It’s a small town, but the donators came from towns all over the valley in an attempt to replace more than 3000 toys in just 24 hours. 

It was uplifting to watch families with children bringing toys to donate to other, less fortunate children.  What a wonderful lesson to teach all of us:  it is better to give than to receive…. And tomorrow, the celebration will go on as planned: free hot meal, gifts for the children, and 65 cubic yards of shipped-in snow to help make Christmas merry and bright.

Of course, there are Secret Santas at work all over this country right now.  Some have paid off layaways at Kmart stores so children can have Christmas after all.  And others are paying for tanks of gas for amazed gas station customers.  Still others have taken toys to children in hospitals, or gifts to the elderly in nursing homes.

Perhaps the spirit of the season is still alive and well, despite the economy.  Perhaps there truly is hope for this little blue marble we live on.  Perhaps man’s inhumanity to man has a noble opponent in those who would commit kindnesses to others without expecting anything in return….

Perhaps the spirit of Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanzaa, Winter Solstice, or whatever you choose to call it, is alive and well.

And this world isn’t all bad….

Christmas Lessons...

One of my favorite things to do, during the Christmas season, is watch all the classic Christmas movies.  Last night, we started with Christmas Vacation, the 1989 John Hughes’ classic.  Full of pratfalls, one-liners, and unimaginable happenings, it’s probably my favorite Christmas movie.

I can’t tell you how many times I have seen it, but I see something new every time I do…

Last night, I realized that, more than pratfalls, impossible and improbably story lines, and a cast of true characters, it’s about expectations.  Unreal expectations based on a heartfelt desire to make this Christmas really special……and perfect.

It’s the story of me….sort of….

As far as I am concerned, there was only one perfect Christmas, and that was over two thousand years ago.  And, believe it or not, I was not around then…..

That doesn’t seem to stop me from trying, year after year, to make Christmas just perfect for my family and friends.  Beautiful Christmas trees and decorations, delicious food, the perfect gifts, a house full of family and friends……I want it all.  And mostly, I get it.  Every year….

But that’s not the point.  Try as hard as he might, Clark Griswold just can’t seem to pull off the perfect Christmas.  Whether it’s his feuding parents and in-laws, his bored children, his miserly boss, or the uptight yuppies living next door…..no one is going to let him have his dream come true Christmas…

And yet, through all the disasters, it comes around to perfection in the end.  Realistic perfection.  The family is all together.  The house didn’t burn down.  Two Christmas trees, a chair and a cat have burned up, but the house is mostly intact.

No, things don’t go the way we plan them, most of the time….  Sometimes, they’re better for all the mishaps.  Who wouldn’t like to stand on the front lawn, watching the Santa decoration launched into the sky by methane gas, and sing the National Anthem?  Especially when surrounded by his entire family, his miserly boss, and a Chicago SWAT team?

Lesson learned: make plans, execute as able, and sit back and laugh at what goes wrong.  Nothing more, nothing less….

Well, maybe without the SWAT team…..

The Christmas Gift.....

As I decorated the house for Christmas yesterday, I thought about something that happened nearly twenty years ago. And every year since then, when I unwrap the figurines for my Nativity scene, I think of the same event.

Way back then, I was setting up the Nativity scene before Christmas. Since there would be “little ones” in the house for Christmas, I chose to put the Nativity scene on the mantle. We had a corner fireplace made of brick, including the mantle.

As I thought about where it came from, unwrapping each figurine and placing it “just so” in the manger or surrounds, I dropped the figurine I was unwrapping at the moment. It bounced with a sickening “ping” on the brick hearth and then on to the carpet. 

I gasped and tears welled up in my eyes. My mother hadn’t been gone all that long and I was devastated to have broken something so special that she had given me. I closed my eyes and decided that, no matter how broken it was, I would glue it back together and continue to use it.

It’s now been forty-one Christmases ago that my mother gave me the Nativity scene. She bought it for me at a little gift shop here in Podunk. It was, and still is, a link to my mother and our family traditions. I have never seen another Nativity like mine: pure white ceramic figurines made by Hummel. They came with a simplistic manger and a gold tin star. 

Even if there were readily available replacements, it just wouldn’t be the same.

Slowly, I bent down and picked up the fallen figurine. It was the Virgin Mary. My tears made it hard to see, so I felt her outstretched hand with my fingers: still there. I felt the base: still complete. I ran my hand over all her surfaces: no chips, nothing missing.

Full of hope, and with my tears dried, I looked at her under a very strong light. Not even a crack, anywhere. I was utterly dumbfounded. How could a small ceramic figurine, with outstretched hand, fall so far, hit so hard and not be broken?

Christmas miracles come in all sizes and shapes, I guess….


Cali

December Daily...

That’s what they call it in the scrapbooking world, The December Daily.  It’s a scrapbook, or “album” devoted to journaling the Christmas season….

Since I retired almost six months ago, I have been able to devote more time to creative endeavors, like scrapbooking.  In fact, I have made more than a dozen basic scrapbooks, covering chipboard with pretty papers and then compiling them in binder rings…

The Christmas scrapbook, “December Daily”, is done.  That is, the basic scrapbook is made and ready for December.  Each day, I will journal the day’s events and add photos or other ephemera to the page.  The pages are numbered and go through Christmas Day.  I also have a couple of extra pages at the end, for any postscripts that might occur.

I suppose that, technically, I am saving memories for future generations.  But in reality, I am savoring memories as they happen.  Each day I will write my thoughts about the day, share any photos from the day’s events, and relive the day once again.

I view it as a way to fully appreciate each and every day that I’m given.  The holiday season is so special and so meaningful to me that it will be nice to have a recorded account of all the events.  Names, dates, lists, thoughts, reactions, surprises, happiness, content, laughter, tears of joy, and memories of holidays past…..they’ll all be there. 

It will be an abbreviated form of each day, since the scrapbook is really a “mini” album.  A few words or notes on each page, to refresh my memory, will bring the day back to me whenever I want.  Perhaps, next year, I will review it and try to recreate some of its most memorable times.  Or expand on what I planned this year.  Or make it happen next year if it doesn’t this year.

Ah, my lists are long and distinguished.  Cookies to bake, fudge to make.  Cloth napkins to sew (by hand), decorations to create from “found things” and the whole house to decorate.  Perhaps, by recording them in my December Daily, I will be more likely to get them done….

If not, they’ll remind me next year of the ideas that I had this year….

Cali

Kat....

It's the middle of the night and I can't sleep. Nothing's wrong, or worrying me, I just can't sleep.

I went out to the kitchen to get a drink of water and woke the dogs up. They sleep in the laundry room, just off the kitchen. Of course, if one of their people is nearby, there's a chance of getting a cookie...

Not tonight, girls, go back to sleep...

As I walked back through the living room, I noticed that the neighbors across the street still have the lights on in their family room. And the wife's car is gone. I hope things are okay. They have a big, extended family and something is always going on over there.

And on my front lawn, settling in, is Kat.....

We first made his acquaintance about a year ago. He would come around every once in awhile and nap on the wicker settee on my front porch. As soon as I pulled in the driveway, or walked out the door, he was off in a flash. Gone to nap somewhere else.

Over time, he began spending more time here. Enough time, in fact, that we would notice when we hadn't seen him for awhile. By then, we had named him Orange Kat, which has shortened to just Kat in the last month or so.

I don't feed him. He's a feral cat, all big and roly poly and orange. Right now, his fur stands and swirls in funny patterns, and he leaves patches of it for our enjoyment. His tail is gone, or never was there. He doesn't look like a Manx mix, so I have no idea what happened to his tail....

In the past few days, he has been limping. It seems to be his right rear leg that 's bothering him. We don't know if he was hit by a car, or hurt in some other way. In any case, it concerns me. I feel some sense of belonging to him, and he has come to accept me as a perpetual nuisance to be tolerated. He does “talk” to me when I talk to him, though.

We don't have any real conversations. I just ask how he's doing and he meows in return. But that in itself is progress. He doesn't run off when I come out the door anymore. He won't come close, either. But I respect that. He has his boundaries, just like the rest of us.

We went out front today, looking for him, and almost missed him. He was lounging in the johnny jump ups along the front walk. They have gotten rather tall; tall enough to hide an orange cat... He stood up, looked at us, and meowed. Obviously, I had interrupted his nap.

And now, in the middle of the night, he is sitting on the front lawn, near the sidewalk. He looks like a lion, sitting there, for all the world to see him. Kat: “the King of the Jungle” or rather, my front lawn. I wonder what he's thinking....

I don't know why Kat adopted my front yard. And I don't know why I haven't told him to “shoo!” when he's sleeping on my front porch. Maybe it's because he looks so comfortable, and I know he doesn't have a real home. I know someone must be feeding him, because he is not emaciated. But it's not me. I already have two fur babies to take care of. I don't need to adopt a cat.

Even though Kat has adopted me....

Cali

Remembering Easter....

I'm taking a break....

The eggs are dyed and drying. The cupcakes are out of the oven. When they're cool enough, I'll frost them. White frosting, coconut dyed green, Jelly Belly “eggs” and little plastic bunnies. Oh, and pipe cleaners shaped into basket handles. Too cute.

Then, all I have left to do is make the egg casserole for brunch tomorrow. And fix supper for tonight. It's been a very busy day, indeed. I even found time to OD on jelly beans....

I have a heart full of memories of Easters gone by....long ago. Saturdays just like this one: decorating eggs, cooking and baking all those special dishes, and, long, long ago, staying up half the night to finish sewing dresses for my daughter and me. Little babies in their crisp, new Easter outfits, ready to go to church on Easter morning. They were wiggly in church, barely able to contain their excitement.

Later in the day, family would gather for an Easter egg hunt and Sunday dinner. Sometimes, at my house, sometimes out at the ranch, where the kids' paternal grandparents lived. It was always a fun day.

And now, those little ones are all grown up and involved in their own lives. With all the blended families and “steps” and “grands” it's hard to keep them all straight. But we manage, somehow. And, like everything else in life, things change.

That sweet little toddler, my first grandbaby, isn't even a teenager anymore. At twenty, he is seriously considering enlisting in the Air Force. He talked to me about it at length the last time he was here. He knows he can do whatever he wants, but he wanted Grandma to approve. And I do...

There may be a crowd here tomorrow, or it might just be the two of us. It doesn't really matter: no matter where I am, or where they are, we are together. All those memories, all those wonderful times, all those special people.....they're all here, in my heart.

And so, as usual, I have fixed enough food to feed an army. The table is decorated. Fresh roses, cut from my mother's rose bushes, are here and there throughout the house. The Easter basket is on the table, with a chocolate bunny, M&Ms, plastic Easter eggs filled with jelly beans, and other little goodies.

There are colorful dyed eggs to be hidden and found. The lawns are mowed and manicured. And the welcome mat is out, as it always is....

Happy Easter, my friends!

Cali

Still Here....

Yes, I'm still here. Life seems to get in the way of writing.

Maybe that's a good thing: living instead of writing about living.... I don't know.

What I do know is that writing is important to me. It allows me to “see” my thoughts and reread them and ponder them. I need to do that more often.

I was in a rhythm: get up early, write something, post it. It was easy because I was off work on disability. But now, being back at work, things are hectic in the morning. I hurry out the door to get to work, leaving my own personal world behind.

And, when I get home, I think I am too tired to write....

Will need to revise my thinking, I think. There is always time to write. Some times are better than others, but they are all “there.”

And so, I will get back to it. Get back to sharing my thoughts. I hope....

Cali

Simple Things....

Rain falling from fat, gray clouds. Drum, drum, drumming on the roof. It's staccato beat is reassuring: it's warm and cozy inside. And dry. The smell of meatloaf baking in the oven wafts through the house, lending its fragrance to the sensory joys of being at home in a rain storm.

Candles flicker in the gathering dusk. Familiar sounds punctuate the silence: the washer and dryer humming as they work, a basketball game on TV, and my fingers pushing the keys on the computer. Familiar and safe and restful sounds.

Life is full of familiar things. Things that have become too familiar, perhaps. Sights and sounds and smells that need to be noticed and appreciated because they are truly the fabric of life. And it's a complex fabric, tightly woven and durable and long-lasting.

I have lived here for most of my life but, until recently, I didn't look at the mountains every day. And now, I do. Today they were beautiful, bluish tinted with caps of snow. And then their caps disappeared behind the fat, gray clouds that engulfed them. Last night, those same clouds were a fierce orange in the glow of sunset...

Simple things, daily things, familiar things....that mystify, and cause awe, and brighten each and every day.

Rain or shine....

Cali

Taking Things For Granted....

Not a good idea, if you ask me. There are no guarantees in life.

Special moments can be fleeting, with lots of time in between. They must be savored when they happened, and remembered for as long as possible.

I went back to work on Thursday. It's been more than seven months since I was able to see patients and give them nursing care. I cannot believe how much I missed it. Perhaps because I have been doing it for thirty-five years, it was an integral part of my life that was missing.

And the time off was not a “practice” session for retirement. When I no longer need to work, and cannot continue doing the difficult work I do, it will be a celebration for me. Conclusion of a time in my life. And an end to the daily drudgery of having a job.

For seven months, I had no purpose, other than to get well. I had no direction, other than to try to get back to work. Just as I could not do the tasks I needed to do at work, I couldn't do those things I wanted to do at home.

Retirement will be different. It will be my choice. My logical next step. On my terms. And, instead of going out with back pain, I will go out with a sense of accomplishment. I will complete the job I started, so many years ago. And I will start my next job: enjoying my life and my love in a relaxed, retired setting.

Somewhere....

I will watch the sunset, and maybe a sunrise or two. I will relish life's little joys, and somehow, get through its sorrows. I will be me, I will be free, and I will enjoy what life brings.....

Every day.

Cali

Waiting...

I seem to be doing a lot of that, recently. Waiting for this or that to happen.

In order to wait, I have to ignore the moment. After all, I am WAITING.......and nothing can happen when I'm waiting, can it?

I took the car in for brakes and tires this morning. It will be ready tomorrow. I'll be waiting for a phone call.

I sent in the required information to request a copy of some records I need, and now I'm waiting for them, too.

And, since I had my procedure done last Thursday, I'm waiting for Wednesday, and a pronouncement from my physician:

Back to work, or not?

I'm glad the weather has been nice. I have spent a lot of happy hours just waiting.....and walking on the beach, going out with friends, watching the Super Bowl, and reading.....

And writing....

Know what passes you by when you focus on waiting?

Life.

Cali