December 22

More Christmases, more exclamation points!

1964

I finally finished my Christmas shopping! Handkerchief for Dad and a 1000-piece puzzle for the family. I almost collapsed when I saw that puzzle! The pieces are only 1/2” high! We’ll all go stark raving mad trying to put it together! Ah, well, it’s all in fun.

I can’t wait for Christmas!

WHEEE!

1975 (grad school in Rhode Island)

Exams over, grades in.

Saturday I finally collapsed, promptly got sick and spent half the weekend in bed. I needed the time off, even if it was forced on me. Today I made baked beans and bread, finished my bed rug sketch, called the rental place about beds for the troops, and got some of my course work done. And it’s only 6 pm. Oh, yes! And I shoveled the walk and the steps. I guess I’m better!

Heard good things from Kansas, and even from Iowa, who at least didn’t tell me to go jump in a lake.

Much to do before Christmas. CHRISTMAS!

1986

Had my first post-natal check-up today. The doc nixed the idea of Jim having a vasectomy (or being “altered”, as he put it!) and instead recommended a hysterectomy for me. The cervical dysplasia has about a 10-15% chance of recurrence and he wants me to undergo major surgery to prevent that! To which I say FEH! I am not ready for that. Why, oh why, am I thinking about a third child? Is it just a desire to cling to youth for a while? Couldn’t we adopt a child if we wanted a larger family? Yes, I think it’s the old biological clock. Aging and death have been much on my mind lately. And to think that just over a month ago I was so sick of being pregnant I knew I never wanted to do it again. The mind is a funny, funny thing. As is the heart.

Comment 2023

Jim got a vasectomy and I got a new OB-GYN. And two kids was plenty.

1996

Another crummy, up and down holiday. I feel empty, except when I fill up suddenly with anger. Then I yell and scream and (sometimes) kick the walls - when I am alone in the house - and go back to feeling empty. Am I depressed, or just normally pissed off? I am supposed to be giving and doing, because I am female and a mom. That entitles me to be pissed off. I am experimenting with being less concerned, less involved. Not unpleasant, but just not always available.

Comment 2023

The mid-to-late nineties were tough years. Probably on all of us. 1997 was about to kick me in the butt.

2001

Excellent day yesterday. Crisp, cold and WINTERY (except for the lack of snow, grrrr).

2003

One more day of grading and then it turns into Christmas. I can wrap my presents and make my cookies and pies. I can hang the stockings and walk the doggies. (They’ll like that!)

Iconoclastic and dangerous. I like that!

Comment 2023

??? Who said that in 2003?? I recall Richard Martin of FIT calling me iconoclastic when he introduced me at some conference, but he died in 1999. It’s a mystery.

2008

Christmas Memories

I love Christmas.
I love the music and the lights.
I even love the sixteen giant inflatable decorations on my neighbor's lawn.
I love planning surprises and baking cookies, and watching every version of "A Christmas Carol" ever made.
I love watching "Love Actually" at 3 AM, and "A Christmas Story" any time.

But I know I'm not the only one whose mind is crowded with Christmas memories. My mother climbing up the steps to our house and waving to the kids, watching from the window. My dad singing "O Holy Night" at candlelight service, in his beautiful tenor. My mother-in-law, urging us to "have some more", feeding us from her limitless Italian kitchen. My brother, making me laugh until I was out of breath and my sides ached. And almost always snow. Snow in Nebraska, snow in New Jersey, lots of snow in New England, and even more snow in upstate New York.
These are lovely, beautiful, happy warm memories. But every year, just before Christmas, sadness wraps itself around me. "Silent Night" in German reminds me of my mother, who died 11 years ago. Every 30s and 40s holiday pop song reminds me of Dad -- he sang them all around the house and in the car, but especially "I'll be Home for Christmas". I think of my mother-in-law's sudden tears one holiday, when she stopped her recitation of family stories to remark, "But of course, they're all dead now". Rainy Christmases remind me of driving home after my father's memorial service in late December, 1994 -- the last year I spent the holiday with my brother, who lives far away in Canada.
I don't want to lose these memories, so I'll just have to learn to roll with them. I'll probably be posting some old holiday photos on Facebook, as a way to share and enjoy my happy times past. It's also a way to bring them into the present, and savor them all over again.

North Platte, NE Christmas pageant, 1954. Guess which angel is Jo.

2019

I just won Solstice baking by substituting leftover wassail for the water, molasses, and ginger in the Fanny Farmer gingerbread recipe.

2022

As I retrace this season from so many decades ago, I can’t ignore how my enthusiasm for Christmas has faded. By the time I was in my teens, the “reason for the season” was no longer the miraculous (and probably mythical) birth of Jesus. The magic was still there, in the lights and the music, which transported me out of my otherwise boring existence. My delight in the gifts I chose and gave to others is clear on every diary page, and actually exceeded my interest in whatever presents I might have received. I didn’t know what I wanted, so how could my family possibly know?

Today, I find myself struggling to get back in touch with the person who used to get up in the middle of the night, creep downstairs to turn on the lights in the family tree and just sit in a nearby chair, whispering “Christmas!!!” and hugging herself with anticipatory delight. Over the years, my focus has shifted from the Nativity to the Solstice, and from gifts to gatherings. COVID disrupted my favorite  traditions: attending the Washington Revels, a holiday sing-along around our piano (Deck Us All With Boston Charlie!), Christmas Day brunch with my family. This is our year to have a “merry little Christmas”: just the two of us, and perhaps a Zoom or two. And lots of music, with the lights twinkling on our IKEA tree.

2023

Here it is, December 22, and the holiday decorations are still in the storage bin. Is it world full of bad news? My lingering grief over so many friends gone this year? That’s some of it. But it’s also something more positive: every year I find myself more tuned into the seasonal changes, and the winter months are becoming more special and holy. I look forward to the “fallow time”. A walk in the cold air feels just right.

2024