Christmas

December reality

/ Sheila / Leave a comment

It has been an expensive week. A bathroom light had to be replaced. A medical bill arrived. A fuel oil bill appeared on my door. (That’s how you know your home heating oil has been topped off…you get a little love note –bill—left on your front door). And this is December…I’m still not done with Christmas gifts or other monthly expenses.

But oh well, what am I complaining about? I see the news stories of how many people are out of work, losing homes, going to soup kitchens, and I know that I’m still among the fortunate, even with unexpected expenses cropping up. At least I have a bathroom, access to medical care, a house to warm. A job that pays for these things…well, Rob pays for some of it, of course…but the point is the same, no matter whose pocket the money comes from. We have it to spend. We are fortunate indeed. And if I really get creative, I can spin it that the money I am spending, even on things like bathroom lights, is helping someone pay their bills and keep going. I like helping the economy, I really do!

Of all times of the year, this is the easiest time for me to be grateful. I know that none of the gifts I am giving are essential. They are all extras, things that are fun or even useful. But not essential. And I would guess that most gifts that people give are in the same category. This is not about making anyone feel guilty, it is about recognizing that even when things aren’t perfect, they are still pretty good if you are warm, fed, and have enough excess to give those non-essential gifts. Why is it so difficult to keep this perspective? Maybe I am speaking for myself…but I don’t think so. Complaining is a way for all of us to vent, to let off steam. The image of the perfect life is out there, in myth and movies. We’ve seen it in our imaginations, and we work hard…don’t we deserve it? And why did my light have to be replaced anyway? I don’t know why life hands us these little irritations. Maybe it is to keep the big picture in perspective…and we know it already. We just don’t stay focused on the positives as much as the negatives. It is just human nature.

So I’m re-channeling my thoughts. My December is not going to be shadowed by the things that went wrong. It will be a celebration of the things that are good, gifts to us all. And when I flip my bathroom light switch, I’ll be grateful that it is working again, thankful for the repairman who replaced it, thankful for the job that allowed me to pay him, thankful for that minor irritation that reminds me how much I truly have.

The Grocery

/ Sheila / 4 Comments

I’m planning my food shopping list for Christmas. It’s very exciting to me. I’m one of those rare people who actually likes going to the grocery store. The only time I dread it is when I have to go alone. For so many years I could always count on having a kid or two with me, and when Stephanie and Alex were no longer available to go, Rob became my shopping partner.

I really love going at this time of year. The local Safeway is brimming with treats and seasonal offerings that make the whole place seem festive. I like to explore the imported cheese display, check out the specialty foods and consider what candies and tidbits to put in the stockings. I am the resident stocking filler, assisted by Stephanie when we spend Christmas together. There are a lot of choices. Since I rarely buy candy except at Christmas and Halloween, I’m surprised by new products that I haven’t seen or tried before. But I usually pick something tried and true: a Toblerone bar or truffles or one of the particular favorites of our kids. Rob doesn’t really eat candy, so I look at fruit for him. The red grapefruit, Clementines and pomegranates are the best. And they fill a stocking nicely.

When Rob and I go to the grocery I am always in a good mood. I think the connection between the intimacy of meal planning and eating together is what does it for me. (Of course he sometimes finds romantic things to say in the produce department, but that’s another post.) It may seem like an odd choice of words to describe something so seemingly mundane. Intimacy and Safeway?! But there’s something touching to me about planning our meals, what we want to share, who will cook what, and it inspires me to look forward to each dinner, each breakfast. We are not simply eating: we are being together. And I’m happy to say that we are both at our low weight goals for ourselves. So even though I consider myself something of a foodie, and we both enjoy eating, we are NOT out of control. Yay! 

My daughter and I had this conversation a couple of days ago…you are either into food, or you’re not. If you’re not, cooking is a chore and not fulfilling. And while there are times when I am not interested in being in the kitchen either, in general I find a lot of pleasure in the process from start to finish. Now, thinking about what dishes to make when Alex visits for Christmas, I remember the things he liked to eat when he was still living at home: shepherd’s pie, thick potato soup with cheese and bacon; homemade rolls; shrimp; cookies right out of the oven are a few of his favorites. I’m excited to cook for him again and to show him that although he’s been out of the nest for a while now, these foods are still part of coming home and being pampered a bit during his stay.

Food taken to an unhealthy extreme is not good. But like the story of Goldilocks and the three bears, there is a level that is just right: food fills, cherishes, warms the heart. It’s one of the biggest elements families share together. If you’ve been shorting your dinner time, don’t miss the chance to sit at the same table with the people who are important in your life. And at the risk of sounding like a mom, if you are the chief cook and bottle washer in your home, put some thought into the experience. Knowing the food likes and dislikes of your family shows that you are tuned in, that you are paying attention, that you care. I don’t mean food or the table setting has to be fancy to be nourishing; of course not. But as long as you have to eat anyway, wouldn’t it be more fun if the food is good? And the place to start is at the grocery. My advice: make menus and a shopping list, be adventurous with recipes…it is much easier to have great meals  if you are prepared. And then do it from the heart. Look for the intimacy. It’s there between each aisle.

Tradition

/ Sheila / 4 Comments

What is there about tradition that speaks to the human heart in a universal language? Some people hold on to the traditions they knew as children, some feel inspired to create their own, others choose a hybrid of the two. Whatever the source of tradition in your life, it can be a powerful force. It is the thing that makes certain foods and rituals mandatory for holidays. It dictates in a variety of ways, from small details to the big picture.

I have many holiday traditions; some I keep faithfully while others are a bit hit and miss. I have maintained my commitment to Christmas cards, fresh trees, favorite recipes, music, special Christmas ornaments for my children each year, and a few select holiday movies. But some years are bigger than others. Some years we have been home for the holidays, and others we have been with family. Once we were in Hawaii until December 23, and came home to put up a Charlie Brown tree (about the only one left at our corner Christmas tree lot) and put on a pared down celebration due jet lag and time constraints. But it was a memorable holiday none the less. We’ve all remembered that December vacation in Hawaii.

We have a running debate over white or colored lights. My daughter and I always vote for the tiny white lights while my son and husband are in favor of color. I keep the peace by making an every other year compromise. And I have to admit, whatever the  light choice for the year, once the strands are on the tree, its magic. The tree is a living presence during the couple of weeks we keep it up: first thing on in the morning, last thing off at night. I switch the lights on before I get my coffee so I can sit and enjoy waking up with the soft glow of the tiny lights breaking the darkness at 5:00 AM. The smell is addicting too. Just walking through the Boy Scout lot among the bundled trees is a preview of the scent that fills the house when we bring the tree inside.

The foods of Christmas are iconic and many people share similar traditions of cookie recipes, desserts or main dishes that define the holidays. For our family, our strongest food tradition is Christmas Eve lasagna. Years ago, the first Christmas we lived away from family and were going to be on our own, I wanted to have a special meal that would have meaning to my husband, who was in his intern year of residency. One of his favorite foods at that time was lasagna, something his mom made for him. We had homemade lasagna with all the trimmings for Christmas Eve dinner, and we’ve maintained that menu ever since. It wouldn’t be Christmas Eve with different food: it just wouldn’t be right.

My son loves gingerbread cookies, and somewhere along the way that became one of the season’s treats. Some years we’ve done a lot of baking for gift giving, but others have been busy enough that we only did the bare minimum. But regardless, gingerbread is a requisite, another must-do.

Our Christmas morning food tradition acknowledges my love of baked sweets and my husband’s love of savory. We always have homemade cinnamon rolls and the Southern classic, sausage balls. Add a special coffee and chilled juice and breakfast is easy and ready to serve before or after checking Santa’s surprises.

When our kids were still at home, the three of us had a tradition of a day of mall shopping and then dinner, usually at Red Robin, on the way home. Can’t go wrong with kids and burgers, or my daughter’s favorite, chicken fingers and fries. After the day spent shopping, choosing gifts for everyone, then driving home in the evening with Christmas music playing and snow falling…well, Christmas in Colorado is magic. I hear some of that music today and I am immediately driving along C-470 with two kids in the van, warm and happy with anticipation of the days ahead and satisfaction from the day just ending.

I remember some of the special moments throughout the years: when both kids got bikes one Christmas in Michigan, delivered early by special arrangement with Santa because we were going to travel to family for Christmas Day; or even further back, the Christmas we got our first family pet, a small black Cocker Spaniel puppy our daughter named Sable. Stephanie was five and Alex was 18 months old. Sable was a part of our lives for many years, a wonderful addition to our little family. She was a gift from Rob to the kids, and perhaps the best Christmas gift he ever gave them.

I think traditions reinforce the good from the past, remind us of things and moments and people who have been precious in our lives. Traditions say that we have such wonderful memories, we want to recreate them, or parts of them, all over again. Traditions bind generation to generation, connect the years. In the best sense, they are not rituals that we are burdened with repeating, but a way to link memory with the present, past and future, parent to child. Our son now makes his own gingerbread, and our daughter is beginning her daughter’s Christmas traditions this year. Riley will experience her first Christmas, and although she won’t remember it, she’ll have her special ornament, her little part of the day. And when our son is visiting this year, I’ll make gingerbread for him, and we’ll have our traditional lasagna and say to each other, “This is the good stuff…” And the real meaning is not found in the food or the color of lights on the tree, or even in the gifts, but in each other.

Little Riley

/ Sheila / Leave a comment

Last week, over the Thanksgiving holiday, I had a little taste of heaven. I spent the week with Riley, our seven month old granddaughter. Of course, there were a few others present as well: Stephanie and Matt, and Rob. But this was the first time that Riley was with us as a distinct personality, and it was a joy to experience.

When Riley was born this year on April 22, weeks premature, my first view of her was in a NICU incubator crib with a baby CPAP mask covering her face. Although she was generally healthy, her lungs were a bit immature and she needed a few days of monitoring and growth before she was ready to leave the hospital. That was an anxious time, an introduction to a newborn, tinged with fear as well as the joy of welcoming new life to the family. She was so tiny, so fragile, so remote.

We saw her again in late June, a two month old who had outgrown her need for additional oxygen, who was a growing and healthy infant. But at that visit, although she was a warm and snuggly little armful, she was still sleeping most of the time, still an unknown entity.

The little one I just met is a happy and contented baby, responsive to play, to laughter, to the things she already recognizes as “good:” her bottle, her pacifier, a favorite toy, her parents’ faces. She sings, long drawn out noises that are more than just baby words. She is already expressing joy, finding her voice.

Little Riley is just beginning her journey, but in the space of a few short months she has grown in size and being. She’s becoming a person. She’ll make a unique contribution to the family dynamic. I’m excited to see her again in a few weeks to learn how she’s changed. Last week, she was on the brink of crawling, she was teething. She’ll be more mobile at Christmas, I’m sure, and maybe there’ll be a tooth or two showing in her smile. I’m honored and humbled, once again, to watch the miracle of a young life, growing and absorbing the world she has entered. It will be a journey for both of us. I think I’ll like being “Gram” after all. After all, watching her is reward enough for taking on the title of grandmother.