A Time to Reminisce Before Looking Ahead

Christmas is over. I guess most people would be thinking, "Well, duh, January is almost over." For me, Christmas goes on for about six weeks. See, I love Christmas. I love the holidays.

It starts the weekend after Thanksgiving. I tried the whole thing about not celebrating Christmas until Christmas really comes, celebrating Advent. I tried not putting any Christmas decorations up until at least Gaudete Sunday (3rd Sunday of Advent), but I just didn't like it. So, all the decorations come out right after Thanksgiving. However, it's a process. Over the next couple of weeks I put out all my Christmas ornaments and decorations.

I cover every surface I can find with lights. Lots and lots of lights. Of many colors. Tree, windows, mantel, top of the piano and entertainment center, doorways, stair railing, over the kitchen cabinets. The more lights that go up, the more my energy increases, the more my spirit soars. Then every little ornament I've collected plus all the ones I inherited from my mom find a special place. Some are from her childhood, quite old, with an odd arm or wing missing, paint chipping off which makes them all the more special. Every surface holds a memory for me.

Then there's the reading. All of our favorite Christmas stories. Read every year. After all these years of reading The Christmas Tapestry by Patricia Polacco, I'm still in tears by the end. The Story of Holly and Ivy by Rumer Godden, A Cajun Night Before Christmas, The Donkey's Dream, A Cobweb Christmas, The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey, and on and on. Oh, and A Christmas Carol cannot be missed.

Christmas movies. Every single version of A Christmas Carol although the one with George C. Scott is my favorite. White Christmas, Christmas in Connecticut, Holiday Inn, It's a Wonderful Life, Christmas Vacation, A Christmas Story (several times). Truthfully, I never tire of A Charlie Brown Christmas, How the Grinch Stole Christmas (animated), Frosty, and Rudolf. I remember before children thinking how exciting it would be to watch those shows with my children. And I have. Every year.

Baking. Cookies, candy, snacks. Abra and I made a list of all the cookies we wanted to try, went to the store to collect ingredients, and then cooked something almost every day. Extra pounds. Oh, so what. They come off - mostly. And gingerbread houses. This year Rachael came over to make gingerbread houses with her little sisters.

And while all this is going on, there is Christmas music playing in the background. I love Christmas music. Any and all Christmas music. While not classical, Bing and Nat King Cole are still my favorites.

Christmas Day. Early Mass on Christmas Eve, pick up a pizza on the way home, and the traditional early gift. Always new PJ's which is the signal that it's time to go to bed. Then Santa and his helper go to work. Santa is very particular about the way he arranges gifts. They must be perfect. The girls take my phone upstairs so they can call when they wake up - usually around 6:00 AM. Santa's helper gets up, turns on every light and the music, gets Santa out of bed, turns on the video camera and calls upstairs to let the girls know everything is ready. There is an order to how they come downstairs. Youngest first. I'm sitting here with a goofy smile remembering. They play with the Santa gifts while mom puts on coffee. We wait for the bigger girls and their husband/boyfriend to show up before we open the wrapped gifts. It must be done slowly. One at a time. Everyone watches and oohs and aahs at the appropriate moment.

Since there has been so much cooking going on all month, mom takes Christmas Day off. Egg and hashbrown casseroles for breakfast, take out Chinese food for dinner. PJ's all day, if you want. Lay around reading, watching A Christmas Story over and over, playing a new game or putting together the new puzzle.

Nothing comes down until after Ephiphany, usually the weekend after. And then it again is a process. No hurry. In the evening, when everyone is quiet and the littler girls are in bed, I turn on the Christmas lights and sit on the couch with a cup of tea, or maybe a glass of wine, and watch the flames in the woodstove and the multi colored lights and am as contented as can be. I savor that time. It feeds me.

So what is it about Christmas? The religious aspect. Truthfully, no. I wish I could say it was all about Jesus, but it's not. Jesus is not ignored, but he is not the reason I love Christmas so much. Is it the gifts? No. I love giving, but that's not it. This year gifts were quite sparse as money is very tight, still the entire season was no less. My mom loved Christmas. She was like a little kid about Christmas. The entire house would glow with Christmas. Mom wasn't particularly religious; she wasn't anti-religious, just not overly religious. For her, in fact, her whole life, was about family. That was her religion, her spirituality. Family.

And I'm her daughter.

Thoughts on Reaching 50 Years

In my normal, roundabout way.

Earlier this summer, my eldest was making plans for her 21st birthday. While most new 21 year olds are out proving they can get as drunk as any idiot, taking all the free drinks the bars offer, my daughter chose to spend her birthday with her family. My daughter chose to spend her 21st birthday with her dad, mom and little sisters. I just had to say that again.

In spite of the mistakes I've made - and they were numerous - my daughters love their family. Having my daughter choose her family to spend her special day with instead of partying with friends might be enough to carry me through for the next 50 years. I don't have any special awards to put on the walls, no public recognition, but my children actually like me and want to spend time with me, and that is all I need. Beats awards all to heck.

And what does that have to with turning 50? Well, as I was pondering the fact that my daughter was turning 21, I turned my mind back to the day she was born. My first pregnancy, my first labor, my first baby. All those memories. Then I thought about how we hadn't rushed into parenthood. In fact, I was a few weeks shy of 29 before my oldest was born. HUH! HALT! Back up there a moment. If I was almost 29, and it's been 21 years, (silent mental math going on here) that makes me a few weeks shy of my 50th birthday.

50? How in the heck did that happen. I knew it was coming, yet it really had not registered. I don't feel 50. I have to force myself to do the computation. Yes. 50. If I went off what I feel, I would guess I'm still in my 30's. Ah! The cruelest joke of all must be time. I'm not depressed over turning 50. More than anything, I'm in awe that it happened so fast. It feels it happened without me being aware of it.

Well, the day has come and gone. Hannah and her boyfriend, Rachael and her husband, Tim and I went out for lunch to one of my favorite sandwich shops. I spent the day with my husband and children. It was quiet. Rather like me. The way I like it. Then it was all over. It just was. Nothing was any different. Yet everything is different.

I remember my dad talking about when he was 50 and how far off 80 seemed. Yet, here he was at 80, and it happened so quick. That cruel trickster again. Have my priorities changed? No. I still want to treasure every moment. I want to not miss a chance to love my family, smile, laugh, cry, enjoy this one wild and precious life.

All I Want Is Justice

Mark Hurd, CEO of Hewlett-Packard resigned due to unethical conduct. Over the last five years he has earned over $100,000,000. Yup, I counted the zeros. Plus, he will receive over $12 million in a severance payment. Yeah, you read right. He's unethical, funnels money to his lady love, has to resign, and still gets more money on his way out the door. How many people get severance payments when they quit? How many people get severance payments when they're forced to quit due to unethical, illegal activity? Only if you're a CEO.

Twenty-eight years my husband gave to that company. A year after Hurd became CEO my husband finally got cut in one of his massive lay-offs. Bitter? Surprisingly, I haven't been extremely bitter until today. There were so many people losing their jobs, that I never took it personally, and for some reason, never felt bitter. Today is a different story. I am beyond bitter. Just totally ticked off is more like it.

I want justice. Who wants to join me in demanding justice? Anyone?

Oh well. While I'm waiting I'm going to have an icy gin and tonic and a bowl of guacamole.

Me In No Particular Order

I hate wearing make-up.
I hate wearing pantyhose.
I hate hair gel, hair spray, curling irons.
I hate business/office clothes.
I love my jeans.
I love loose, full, long skirts.
I love cotton blouses.
I love being barefoot.
I love Birkenstocks if I must wear shoes.
I love walking barefoot through the dewey grass in the morning.
I love drinking coffee in my orchard.
I hate arguing, debating.
I love discussions (both sides open to learning).
I love people.
I hate crowds.
I LOVE my children.
I LOVE my husband.
I love walking with my husband, holding his hand, brushing my shoulder against his.
I love thunderstorms.
I love laying in bed with the window open while it rains.
I love laying in the orchard at night with my husband.
I hate discontent.
I hate that we have so many divisions that cannot be put aside for friendship.
I hate touching and looking at raw meat.
I hate warm milk.
I love cucumbers, tomatoes and lettuce from my garden.
I love salads and eat a big one everyday.
I love books.
I love rearranging my books.
I love snuggling.
I hate violent movies.
I love fresh baked bread with butter and homemade peach jam.
I love the feel of a freshly laid warm egg.
I hate fast.
I love slow.
I hate traffic.
I love taking my time.
I love daydreaming.
I hate most sitcoms on TV.
I HATE arguments over religion. Hate, I say.
I love star gazing and letting my mind wander - the possibilities.
I love roads I've never traveled.
I LOVE the ocean.
I love daisies.
I love my home.
I HATE consumerism.
I love finding things I don't need.
I love getting the last itty bit of toothpaste out of the tube.
I love Tolkien.
I love hobbits.

That's all for now.

Why Can't I Get Past All This?

Spring is here. The weather has been perfect. The yard is shaping up. The orchard is full of color and life. And I'm all depressed. I HATE it. I know only I can change it, but My God, it's hard to move on sometimes. I was not going to write, but many times writing it all out seems to be the only way for me to start moving forward again.

All the recent news about sexual abuse in the Church is difficult but most difficult is the news that hits home. Over the past few years I've been sort of following the news about Fr. Maciel, the Legion of Christ, and particularly, Regnum Christi. Over the years I've been closely involved with people in RC; in fact, no one knows how close I came to joining. I've always been a person that needs to belong to something. I need a tribe. So I go looking. That's how I found RC. For whatever reason, thankfully, something held me back from taking that final plunge. It was that something that never settled quite right with me. Plus, Tim had no interest whatsoever in it, and they were always after both of us although I think they would have taken me alone.

Anyway, for years I've been very closely involved with RC people even though I never joined. I helped with their groups, meetings, etc. My children were involved with their groups: Kids 4 Jesus, Familia, Challenge. I attended their women's meetings for some time. They were my support group even though I stayed on the sidelines. These people were my friends. I care about them. And what I see now absolutely sickens me.

They refuse to acknowledge the truth. Of course, RC still controls what goes into their minds. They read the RC communiques carefully and do whatever they're told. When they're told not to read certain authors, newspapers, blogs, they don't read. Still! How can you overlook and excuse the truth. One family still has Maciel's picture prominently displayed on their dining room wall. I was just reading a blog entry by another friend who was stating how much they still loved and respected Maciel for all the good he had done. Another friend was writing how we're not in a place to judge as we're all sinners. (Yes, we're all sinners but how many of us sexually abuse children, take money of people we've hoodwinked and build an empire?) Many are still hanging onto the fact that John Paul II loved Fr. Maciel, and of course, JPII could never be wrong.

Where does all this take me? Back to religion. The power religion has over people. I'm beginning to think that religion is the most powerful influence that has ever existed. Religion doesn't just deal with life here on earth; it deals with your eternal life. Hell or Paradise with God. Think of that power. Incredible. For several years I've viewed religion as neutral, neither good nor bad. It's power can go either way - great good or great evil. There has been great good done, and there has been great evil done. The deciding factor is human nature. Humans use religion for their own purposes. If there wasn't religion, humans would find some other means to get what they desire.

I'm beginning to wonder now if religion is as impotent, on its own, as I've made it in my mind. Now I wonder if religion, by its very nature of separating and dividing, doesn't tend to bring out the negatives in our nature. We desire to be right, for our truth to be the Truth, and for that to happen we need to be able to point to those who are wrong, whose truth is not the Truth. Religion does that for us.

These are my own personal experiences. How I experienced religion. When I said I was sickened by behavior of friends, what truly sickened me was the knowledge that behavior was my behavior and could still, very easily, be my behavior. I see myself so clearly in them. That is what appalls me and frightens me. I feel as a recovered alcoholic might feel: one drink might land me right back in the gutter. I do not want to fall of the wagon.

Funeral Thoughts

This has been one of those weeks you don't want to repeat. I'm not sleeping well, my back aches, plus I get so hot I'm tempted to turn on the AC expect for the fact that my husband is snuggled under the down comforter. It seems everyday there has been an interruption, and then last night Tim's mom called to let him know that a man he attended school with for 12 years was killed in a tragic accident. So today found us at his funeral. It was odd - looking around at all the familiar faces it seemed as though it should be a high school reunion, but instead everyone was gathered together to say good-bye to a 52 year old man.

What I hate hearing most at times such as this is 'it's God's will' or 'it must have been his time'. Doesn't work for me. God's will. What a damn cop out. Life is full of tragic accidents, illnesses, untimely deaths. Let's just blame some God that sits up there in heaven for everything. It's just life. The good and the bad. For those people who believe it's God's will, I hope it is a balm for them, that it helps them in their grief. When I have tried to find answers for suffering, unhappiness, grief, it has driven me crazy to the point of depression.

More and more I'm feeling at peace with just letting it be - letting the mystery be. Suffering is. Death is. At the same time happiness is. Joy is. Instead of wasting precious time, of which I don't have enough, in trying to figure out why there is suffering or tragic deaths, I would rather spend my time living each day fully. Enjoying and taking pleasure in EVERY SINGLE MOMENT I HAVE HERE ON EARTH. I want to spend my time listening and being with people/God (same thing for me). No need to go looking for sacrifices - they will present themselves in a way you will not be able to say no to. They'll come.

The one thing funerals seem to scream at me is: slow down, simplify, live slowly and fully, love fully. There is enough in the world that needs love to keep you occupied until the day you die. Actually, Tim and I are doing pretty well. I think we are. Our lives move rather slowly, we don't need a lot, we're a pretty simple couple. We have time - so much more now that's he's not working. Time. Once you sell it, it's gone. All you've got in exchange is the amount for which you agreed to sell it. What a poor substitute. This is my own private revolution against our culture. I will fight it tooth and nail. They can keep their high standard of living, their big, gas guzzling SUV's, huge homes and all the rest of it. And I'll keep my time.

Funerals do have a way of keeping life in perspective.

Sacred Things

Every once in a while I come across something that just speaks of God to me. This blog and its owner shout out 'God'. His compassion, love, generosity and spirit makes my soul swell to the point I think it might burst. Even if one isn't religious or spiritual, I have to think they would be touched. So do yourself a favor, and visit his blog. You will be impacted and challenged.