Year in Reveiw

A year ago my father died of a combination of emphysema and lung cancer. An ugly combination at best.
I had really dreaded this day, mostly because I did not know what to expect. Would emotions be just below the surface? Would more tears be shed when so many have already? Would there be anything? Anything at all?
The answer is not one I had anticipated.
Last week some tears were shed. Dad was not here for Christmas. That was hard, but once the tears came and went, peace came back.
But something happened in the interim.
A year ago, (well, a year and a couple of weeks), there was a gathering of friends to go out to eat in various forms of dress up. This is something that would happen from time to time and good time is always had by all.
George and I, while we really wanted and needed to go, could not. Things with my father kept us away.
A few days after the party, I received something from friends who had attened. A card telling us we were missed and they were thinking of the family. Also in that card was a picture. It delighted me and lightened that day and time considerably. I have several other pieces of this man's wwork and I wanted this one framed as well. I wanted it in my kitchen so I could see it everyday.
Well, one thing led to another. Christmas came, my father died and all manner of stuff was put aside to deal with what needed to be done at the time. The picture was lost. Until a week ago.
It was found with other Christmas cards and items put aside to be looked at when time allowed.
The time allowed is now. We went yesterday and had it framed.
The drawing is hanging in my kitchen along with another and I love them both.
All is not lost and in fact a great deal is found.
Thanks Bob and Marcella and Karen.

Napping

I was a slacker today. It was absolutely wonderful! A 2 hour nap. No cooking other than putting the leftovers in the microwave Great stuff.
I normally make a big dinner for Sunday evenings. Family is all here. The table is set with china and candles. The family is important and all the trappings need to be used regularly to make sure the always feel important.
Not today. I took a day off.
The world did not come to an end. My children did not feel abused. I did have to promise dinner tomorrow, but I got a day off.
Now if you don't mind, It is after 10 in the evening.
Time for bad.

A lovely, slow day

We have unwrapped gifts, eaten rich foods and enjoyed family all day. These were the real Christmas gifts.
I watched my son entertain his 15 month old nephew. My daughters laughing together over something incredibly inane. Friends sitting together and drinking Italian champagne.
No demands, just being together.
Now I realize this doesn't happen everday. It is just so nice when it does. Kind of like the divine knowing what we really want and need, even when we have different ideas.

And the child....

We have been to church. A little boy carried a figure of the Christ babe to the altar and placed him in a manger.
And we shall all be lead by a child.
My daughter waits for her son and his father to return tonight. Her faith in the spirit of Christmas is waning. She so wants for life to be better. Just waiting for it to get better. I want to tell her how much she has. But that would be preaching. And any daughter will tell you she really does not want to listen to her mother preach.
I want to tell her of hope and light and life that can be found even in the really crappy times.
But I will let her son tell her that.
I think sometimes we have to wait to let those messages come through. When we are listening. Cait's son is 15 months old. I think his voice is just right. His message is just right.
Just like the little boy tonight taking up the baby to the manger. He came back to the pew, grinned and said he did his job and he liked it. I needed that message. The job we all need to do.
And we really will all be lead by a child.

Early Morning

I was awake this morning at 5:30. No particular reason, just "up". Coffee and my dogs. Greeting the day slowly.
We have 2 days til Christmas. A winter storm is moving into the area and we are geared for the blast. Milk and cookies, pasta and wine. Bring on the snow and holiday!

Waiting on the chicken

It is almost 5:00 p.m., three days before Christmas. The chickens are slathered in butter and roasting away. Potatoes will be peeled to cook and mash. Asparagus ready to be roasted. Not an atypical meal for us, but a little more going in to it this time. Just because.
The groceries for the big holiday have been purchased and last minute gifts are here. We are a little slow on the wrapping, but I have promised it will be done by the morning of the 25th.
I guess this is called waiting. Kind of what Advent is - waiting and preparing. Not to be too religous, but that is what we do at this time of year. Listen, wait, listen, go and do. Listen and wait again.
A year ago we were waiting for Christmas with the knowledge it would be my dad's last. I remember hearing the bells from St. Jo's, a block away, as the Luke gospel was read close to midnight. At the time, I didn't feel the joy associated with the passage and the bells. I did, however, feel a peace I had not felt in quite a while.
That peace is still with me. Sometimes I have to stop to feel and listen to it. To know it.
Peace be with all of you this Christmas season.

Passing it on

I made eggnog tonight. Not just any eggnog, but Lady Keith's eggnog. A true southern liquid concoction passed on to me by a former priest's wife when they retired back to the south. Lady (Adelaide)really was a southern lady. The term really applied. We all loved her and she us. Her wit was wonderfully sharp and gentle all at the same time.
Anyway the nog is made and will be consumed tomorrow night at the annual St. Mark's Episcopal Church Christmas potluck. Only made once a year, it has bourbon, rum and brandy cooking the eggs, cream, 1/2 and 1/2 and copious amounts of sugar. Drink a cup or two and it really does not matter what else is served.
When the Keiths left, the women of the church begged Lady for some of her traditional recipes. Green Beans ritually served at the seder supper of Holy Week went to one woman. Another got her beef burgandy. Yet another got her lemond curd recipe. I got the eggnog and flourless citrus cakes recipes. The cake recipe came to me because I had more than one angel food cake pan (comes from going to a lot of auctions). Her memory will live longer than her husband's. Not because he wasn't a good priest. He was. It was just she was such a good cook, good friend and not someone easily forgotten.
We now talk at church about the new recipes people have brought that all love.
I have to wonder who will get this batch once we move on.