Well, I did it. I spent much too much on ANOTHER live Christmas tree, so that I could have one in the house, after all. And then, it had to have almost two feet cut off it. But... Already in the car, with the tree (and the branches that were sawn off) in the back seat, filling the air with the fragrance of spruce, I felt the excitement. It has been so long since I have had a live tree in the house. We travel from child to child during the holidays, which we love doing, but it does mean that decorating for Christmas seems redundant. This year we are home, and I'm entertaining tonight (also something I rarely do these days), so having a bit of the spirit of the season in the house seems to be a good idea. Last year we were in Mexico with Lyra and family, enjoying our wonderful Mexican family. Watching Lydia and Logan interacting with the G's extended family was such a pleasure. And having Lyra to ourselves for a whole week was another. It was different, though. I have always had church at the center of my Christmas, and sitting on the balcony overlooking Acapulco Bay on Christmas morning was a peculiar feeling...nice, but peculiar. I read "Morning Prayer" by myself, and thought about Christmas being a feeling, not a place. Other years we have been in S.F., and there we go to an exquisite little church in the Haight. That is what is known by some as "high church", lots of ceremony. It appeals to me, somehow. But also, at that church, the congregation is loving and accepting, so that the non-sighted man that sings in the talented (although very small)choir has his seeing-eye dog with him, and the elderly lady with the pom-pom dog can take him up to the altar to be blessed during communion. One memorable Christmas day, with the glorious music from the tracker organ and the choir, the priest (who turns out to be from our neck of the woods) read a children's picture book in place of the sermon. Charming. We also go to Maryland every third Christmas. There we usually go to the R.C. church with our children. That congregation has a strong family feeling. And it is wonderful to go to church with the little ones. During the long desert called "the shop", all Christmas trees were to spur shoppers on to buying more. They were beautiful trees, decorated with the help of a talented young decorator. They were coordinated, organized, perfect, and gave the shop an elegance that impressed all. But they weren't mine. I tried having a little one in our living quarters, but it didn't work. Mostly because I was too exhausted after every work day (read, every day), to enjoy the season, never mind the tree. So, when we closed the shop, I was worn out and didn't have the energy to do Christmas here. I had a little fake tree that had sat on my display case, that I set up in the living room, but it was a half-hearted gesture. Last year I put that little tree outside on the porch table and lit it. It was a nice addition to the brightly lighted neighborhood. But THIS year, I have not one, but TWO, live trees! It sounds pretty weird even to me. The one outside on the porch is reminiscent of the fancy ones in the shop; all coordinated with burgundy bows and flowers and gold balls and garland, and lots of white lights. The tree gracing my living room is covered with all the handmade ornaments that have been hiding away for years. And what fun I had getting them out, lovingly handling them, remembering the people and the circumstances when I got them. "Isn't that the prettiest tree we've had for years?" I gushed to DB. "It's the FIRST tree we've had for years," says ever-truthful, ever-practical DB. (But when I was frustrated over a string of lights that wouldn't work, he sat for 30 minutes and figured out how to make them light, without my asking. I think he's pleased to see a tree again.) A little memory (triggered by the ornaments B made and gave me that year): the year DJ was in Mexico on a sort of exchange program, I was having a lonely Christmas. My daughter was married and living two hours from me, my youngest wasn't a Christmas person (he is, now, however), and the child who would have helped to make Christmas was far away. I had no one to sing Advent and then Christmas carols with around the piano, no one to help me make a mess with the cookie dough, no one to laugh with while we decorated the tree. (DB has never enjoyed decorating trees, which made his help last night even more appreciated.) About two days before Christmas, a knock came at the door in the early evening, and there were 5 of DJ's friends. "He wrote to us and said you'd be lonely this year, so we have come to make cookies!" said one of them. What a wonderful Christmas present from that son. We messed around with the cut-out cookies ("Very Good Pepper Cookies", is how the Finnish is translated), and then sat around the piano, singing carols, folk songs, and whatever else struck our fancy. We finished with DB joining us for cookies and milk. I'll never forget that night. This year, he and his family are in Mexico for Christmas.
We are coming up to the last Sunday Fr. J will be here. That is next Sunday. It is hard for me to say goodbye. He has made me feel like a real Episcopalian again. He has made me search myself and helped me more on my "Way" than he knows. I am truly looking forward to our new husband and wife team of priests (and especially their baby girl), but they are very young, and Fr. J. is much older than they, thus more experienced and wiser. And closer to my age and experience. I have watched the older people (older than I, even!)be drawn to Fr. J. It has not been that group that has had problems with some of the changes; it is the 40-ish group that has. Funny, Huh?
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