Time for Gifts

My husband surprised me with many wonderful gifts this Christmas season. A smooth tan rock inscribed with OM. A jaunty red tea kettle. (I think this was out of self-interest as he was quite concerned that I might eventually start a dry-pan fire). Jewelry that keeps coming at unexpected moments. Nothing expensive (we’re too cheap for that!) but quite lovely in its sparkle and bling appeal. My favorite so far is a seemingly hideous cocktail ring which I adore. 12 onyx and diamond (okay, cubic zirconia) petals poke off of its silver band. At almost an inch and a half across, it’s monstrous and reminds me of some bizarre sea anemone. I love it!

He bought me the entire box set of My So-Called Life DVDs. That’s a show he used to make fun of, probably because I watched it with fervor when I was well past my teens. I’m a sucker for narrated stories, what can I say? Plus, who doesn’t like a little angst in their day? I can walk away saying to myself, Hey, at least I can drive.

Oh, and S actually wore the blazer I bought him. Never-worn, tags attached, grey wool tweed by Claiborne bought in a thrift store for five bucks. Hey, I told you we were cheap. I’ve never seen him wear a blazer in our entire life together. But after initial resistance, he embraced the look, wearing it throughout New Year’s Eve. We had a wonderful celebration by dressing to the nines and then taking our daughters to the theatre, okay, we saw the Tale of Despereaux, then out for expensive Japanese food. (Our daughters are well cultured.) We liked to think that everyone was jealous of how elegant our black velvet dresses looked, and how much fun we seemed to be having. And it WAS fun.

We stopped by the Mission Inn to see the Christmas lights one last time and to spin around the glittering city in a horse-drawn carriage. Back at home, we had cake and champagne or sparkling cider by candlelight and then watched the classic black and white version of Sabrina. You can’t beat Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart for style and romance. We watched the ball drop on Times Square and made way too much noise.

It was a perfect celebration. I’m superstitious about celebrating occasions well, and I’m particularly superstitious about beginning the New Year with freshness and careful intention. For no reason besides intuition, I’ve been really into Thyme lately, and I burned a bundle of it just after midnight, concentrating on the fire’s glow and the smoke rising like prayer.
(All during the holidays, every time someone complained of any physical or emotional ailment I kept offering to boil them up a cup of fresh Thyme tea. “I’m sure it does SOMETHING good,” I’d say. Surprisingly my sister-in-law, my brother, my father, my husband, my daughters – they all turned me down. Oh well.)

(Here’s the story of Thyme. I was lying in bed one night when I suddenly thought, I need to get some Thyme! Like that, just out of nowhere. And the next day, at Farmer’s Market, one of the vendors had bunches of it fresh-cut. I’d never seen it there before so I bought it. The day after that, I found a pot of it on sale at the grocery store. So now I have that. It’s gone into a lot of our food since then. It just smells so… Italian.)

Speaking of Italian, we spent the first days of 2009 on vacation in Little Italy, San Diego. We stayed at this marvelous, underappreciated hotel with marble baths and luxurious rooms for under a hundred bucks. We walked the blocks of the city, inhaling the aromas of espresso and baking bread, and listening to the flow of Italian commonly spoken by the area residents. S delighted me by wearing the blazer throughout the weekend, just like the other spiffy inhabitants. All the ways he showed me and told me he loved me during this last week have been delightful. I’m happy to be loved. I’m happy when my family is together, doing interesting things. I’m happy here, writing. This is who I am. I am Marie, sometimes bitter, sometimes divided, living up to my name. More than anything, I am hopeful, optimistic, faithful and compassionate. I embrace life.

I say thank you for all of the gifts.

In the Bleak Midwinter- Snow Had Fallen, Snow on Snow

It's Saturday; how about a poem?

This is a Christmas favorite for me. I fell in love with it through a beautiful picture book I used to read my daughters. The illustrations combine a second narrative to the nativity story.

The first stanza is my very favorite, of course. Such imagery.

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.

What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.

Christina Rossetti (1872)

Christmas Yet To Come

I was taking a writing class two summers ago when I wrote this. Not for the class exactly, but because I observed something curious. In one front yard, a twinkling horse and sleigh lit up the warm nights. As I drove past this house each week one question kept coming back to me: Why would anyone display a Christmas scene in mid-summer? This story was my answer.

*******

Christmas Yet to Come

Jenna was getting sicker and sicker. Her face was ash grey now, and the coughing fits, when they came, took her over in the same way the Santa Ana winds would toss about the branches of the big elm outside. Still though, she had nothing but brave little smiles for Ralph, brave smiles and small, dry kisses that she pressed onto his hands or his cheek as he bent over her, watching, concerned, helpless.

She spent her days on the blue overstuffed couch in the living room. The couch had big pink flowers splashed over it that Jenna had never liked. She had always meant to get a different one, something more chic, more modern. Oh well, at least that wouldn’t be an annoyance anymore. You see, there always was a positive.

Her nights, Jenna spent curled up in bed next to Ralph. The visiting nurse had suggested buying a hospital bed, had informed Ralph in soothing tones of concern that the Medicare would pay for its cost. But Jenna was comfortable in their bed, and Ralph couldn’t bear the thought of kicking her out of it for his own comfort. So he listened to her coughing and her labored breathing and reached out in the dark hours of the early morning, fumbling, lonely, to hold her thin hand between his.

One crisp cool morning, Ralph stepped from the house and realized that fall had arrived. The trees were golden and dry, and the air had that still crisp quality to it and that hint of motion soon to come that heralded the arrival of autumn and winds. Just a few weeks now, the nurse said. Ralph wondered how long Jenna would make it. What would he ever do without her?

Staring off into space, lost in his musings about the uncertain future, Ralph had an idea. Yes, it would take some time, but he had the whole day.

That night, when Ralph lifted Jenna up to carry her to bed, he walked out the front door instead.

“There’s something I want you to see,” he said in his gruff voice.

Their Christmas decorations filled the front yard. Red, blue, gold and green lights festooned the branches of the fir. Candy canes and snowmen leapt along the walk. And in the center of the grass was Jenna’s favorite piece, the lighted outline of a sleigh they had bought together at Costco the year Ralph retired. Bulbs flashed on and off to give the illusion that the horses’ hooves were moving, and that the sleigh was gliding along over fields of ice, just as Jenna remembered real sleighs doing in her girlhood in Nebraska. It always made her smile.

“Oh, Ralph, but it’s only September.”

“That’s okay, my girl. I had some extra time and I wanted to get a head start.”

Jenna smiled and gave his arm a quick squeeze. Tears shone in her brown eyes. They both knew what Ralph wasn’t saying. December seemed a long, long way away from September, especially for her.