Another Whirlwind Christmas
Another slice 'o my life for the curious.
Christmas 2009 was strangely indifferent for me until about 1 week before the Day. I found myself mired in conflicting feelings, moreso than years past. I've long reconciled that all the earthly trappings are just colorful diversions, relating not to the true celebration of Christ's birth (actually in August?). This is hardly news, this acknowledgment of the commercial versus the spiritual, the temporal vs. the eternal. Even Charlie Brown and friends covered this nearly 45 years ago.
Still, I really enjoy all the glitter. I grew up with it. My mother decorated our houses with great patience and style. We had a tall and wide living room tree, and I even had my own in my room. Both were adorned with a mind-boggling array of various ornaments, some dating back to the 1950s. I grew up here in West Palm Beach, FL, so of course a white Christmas was never even a possibility. I recall exactly 2 Christmas Days when it was chilly; most were sickeningly warm and humid. While everyone laughed and bragged about wearing shorts, I sulked, spouting caustic remarks even as a little tyke. I recall playing basketball one 12/25 and almost getting punched because of my sarcasm.
I gradually realized that Christmas would always be disappointing if my yardstick was that of colorful storybook visions. Movies, TV programs, books, songs, they all portrayed some wonderland filled with bundled up smilers carting shiny packages while they tread through the snow and waved to their neighbors. The air would be frosty and filled with carols. Everyone would be happy, all the time. For most, this does not reflect reality. The magic, when not fully realized, began to fade a little bit more over time. With each year, I began to feel that Marty Robbins was right; Christmas was for kids, anyway. But also, all I really wanted were some cooler temps, please!
This year I passed through weeks of holiday music and parties without feeling "it." Even though I was incedibly blessed, filled with worship, not caught up in consumer frenzy, giving the thumbs up to and very pleased about the Advent Conspiracy, I still felt numb. I still hang on to this idea that Christmas should feel a certain way. If I don't feel it, I become indifferent. This is a problem.
I remember discussing "feelings" with various mentors in my church youth group. It was agreed that just because you don't tremble or weep, it doesn't mean God isn't working. This was certainly opposite of what televangelists were saying and doing. I also did see the occasional healing service, where hands would press on foreheads and bodies fell backward. Where the sick would exclaim their Hallelujahs at the touch of Jesus. My own conversion experience, at a youth camp when I was 17, was a very emotional time. Had it not been, it wouldn't have been any less genuine. So, while I know that the Spirit moves despite my internal feelings barometer, I still seem to have this need for the visceral.
Now, that does not mean I will act out like characters in Chuck Palahniuk novels, fueling a need for some brutal catharsis, but I still seek the creature comforts. It is a process. I'll check in again on this thought next year, Lord willing. One positive side effect-I no longer get down in the dumps post-holiday. This is actually because, about 2 years ago, I finally, honestly understood that Christmas, its true essence, is with us all year. It was no longer just a trite thing to express, but truth. I also realize that acknowledgement of this Peace is entirely up to me.
BTW, the week before and through the Day, I did get some morsels of the trimmings. To appease this thirst for the ornamental. Oh, and the weather did turn chilly leading up to but not on Christmas Day. Then, it got chilly the day after. Dangit. Someday, my wife and I will escape this humid wasteland and get some cold X-mas cheer! What was the temp in Bethlehem again?
Highlights of a busy Christmas weekend (not chronological):
-2 separate trips to see my father-in-law in Coral Gables. We saw various relatives on Sonia's side, enjoyed great Indian food, beer from Holland, decadent desserts. All in this gorgeous home built in the 1920s by the same architect who designed the Coral Gables city hall. There are some fascinating details to this that I will eventually outline. Miami is far from my favorite place, but CG has undeniable charm and beauty.
-Christmas Eve with Sonia's stepfather's son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter in Jupiter. Several friends also brought their kids. The wee ones danced to country music (and Modest Mouse!) and tore open presents. It was a bit alarming at one point, as one of the girls kept asking "where's the rest?" What was that about inherent goodness? Not having to be taught to be greedy? Right. OK. No soapbox here. As we were leaving, several of the kids were completely engaged in Wii skateboarding.
-Visited with my mother, who remains in the same nursing facility. Her health is good, improving even, but she remains bedridden. Depression and fear are imposing adversaries. It will be 3 years this Feb. I have avoided entries on this topic, as it is draining, but perhaps I should make more effort. It does help to talk and write about it all. I have some ideas that I plan to finally put into action for her rehab, so stay tuned. Anyway, we brought her some turkey and ham with trimmings and also joined my grandmother there. We later took grandma to see the dazzling display of house lights/displays on a local street, famous for its spectacle. This is the type where thousands of lights border eaves and front lawns, where inflatable Santas wink at passersby. Every house on Gabriel Lane participates, and have for many years. It is gaudy, but great fun. My grandmother was filled with open-mouthed wonder. It was like experiencing Disney World with a child. I was struck with joy at this simple pleasure. We made her lonely world a bit brighter for a little while.
-Grandma also received a pink Snuggie from us. Yeah, OK, go ahead and laugh. She loved it, and it is perfect for her, for the handful of chilly nights we do get.
-I had purchased extra chocolates during my shopping and it was handed out to the family members of an abuela (and 2 doors down neighbor of my grandmother)who passed away on Christmas Eve. Several generations were packed into a small apartment to mourn. My wife (who speaks Spanish) and I visited for a bit. Many in attendence described how impressed with my grandmother they were, how even at 96 years of age she made her way over many days to see their relative, a lady who also had a long, rich life. It was a sad but still hopeful gathering. They were all very sensitive to how my grandmother would receive this distressing news. I was humbled. We haven't told her yet.
-We met an out-of-town friend at a PF Chang's (Holy MSG!!!) for a lively evening of catching up, including his very candid disclosure of his difficulties with his sister. She and the entire family need your prayers.
-A late lunch at Darbster, a new local vegan restaurant. How could I not have composed a post on this yet?? We've been there 3 times! Great place. Keep watching. Better yet, make plans to eat there in the near future. Remind me to tell you about the "chocolate" mousse.
-Spent part of Christmas Day at my mother-in-law's, with her usual fun group of friends, including Harry. I've written about him several times, as faithful readers will note. He had been asking me for months about a 1940s film called UN CARNET DE BAL. My research found, you may recall, that it was only available on VHS from Amazon Francais. Forty-one Euros (~62 U.S. dollars) and a few weeks later, I received an intriguing, stamp-laden parcel. Inside, along with the tape, was a short note in French (basically a "thank you and enjoy"). The tape was from a private seller. We left the videocassette and note in the envelope and gift wrapped the entire thing, for authenticity's sake. Harry was thrilled, as he had not seen this movie in many years. Criterion, are ya listenin'?
We also joked that Harry, a widower, could strike up a correspondence with this lady overseas, ala 84 Charing Cross Road. One never knows.
Christmas 2009 was strangely indifferent for me until about 1 week before the Day. I found myself mired in conflicting feelings, moreso than years past. I've long reconciled that all the earthly trappings are just colorful diversions, relating not to the true celebration of Christ's birth (actually in August?). This is hardly news, this acknowledgment of the commercial versus the spiritual, the temporal vs. the eternal. Even Charlie Brown and friends covered this nearly 45 years ago.
Still, I really enjoy all the glitter. I grew up with it. My mother decorated our houses with great patience and style. We had a tall and wide living room tree, and I even had my own in my room. Both were adorned with a mind-boggling array of various ornaments, some dating back to the 1950s. I grew up here in West Palm Beach, FL, so of course a white Christmas was never even a possibility. I recall exactly 2 Christmas Days when it was chilly; most were sickeningly warm and humid. While everyone laughed and bragged about wearing shorts, I sulked, spouting caustic remarks even as a little tyke. I recall playing basketball one 12/25 and almost getting punched because of my sarcasm.
I gradually realized that Christmas would always be disappointing if my yardstick was that of colorful storybook visions. Movies, TV programs, books, songs, they all portrayed some wonderland filled with bundled up smilers carting shiny packages while they tread through the snow and waved to their neighbors. The air would be frosty and filled with carols. Everyone would be happy, all the time. For most, this does not reflect reality. The magic, when not fully realized, began to fade a little bit more over time. With each year, I began to feel that Marty Robbins was right; Christmas was for kids, anyway. But also, all I really wanted were some cooler temps, please!
This year I passed through weeks of holiday music and parties without feeling "it." Even though I was incedibly blessed, filled with worship, not caught up in consumer frenzy, giving the thumbs up to and very pleased about the Advent Conspiracy, I still felt numb. I still hang on to this idea that Christmas should feel a certain way. If I don't feel it, I become indifferent. This is a problem.
I remember discussing "feelings" with various mentors in my church youth group. It was agreed that just because you don't tremble or weep, it doesn't mean God isn't working. This was certainly opposite of what televangelists were saying and doing. I also did see the occasional healing service, where hands would press on foreheads and bodies fell backward. Where the sick would exclaim their Hallelujahs at the touch of Jesus. My own conversion experience, at a youth camp when I was 17, was a very emotional time. Had it not been, it wouldn't have been any less genuine. So, while I know that the Spirit moves despite my internal feelings barometer, I still seem to have this need for the visceral.
Now, that does not mean I will act out like characters in Chuck Palahniuk novels, fueling a need for some brutal catharsis, but I still seek the creature comforts. It is a process. I'll check in again on this thought next year, Lord willing. One positive side effect-I no longer get down in the dumps post-holiday. This is actually because, about 2 years ago, I finally, honestly understood that Christmas, its true essence, is with us all year. It was no longer just a trite thing to express, but truth. I also realize that acknowledgement of this Peace is entirely up to me.
BTW, the week before and through the Day, I did get some morsels of the trimmings. To appease this thirst for the ornamental. Oh, and the weather did turn chilly leading up to but not on Christmas Day. Then, it got chilly the day after. Dangit. Someday, my wife and I will escape this humid wasteland and get some cold X-mas cheer! What was the temp in Bethlehem again?
Highlights of a busy Christmas weekend (not chronological):
-2 separate trips to see my father-in-law in Coral Gables. We saw various relatives on Sonia's side, enjoyed great Indian food, beer from Holland, decadent desserts. All in this gorgeous home built in the 1920s by the same architect who designed the Coral Gables city hall. There are some fascinating details to this that I will eventually outline. Miami is far from my favorite place, but CG has undeniable charm and beauty.
-Christmas Eve with Sonia's stepfather's son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter in Jupiter. Several friends also brought their kids. The wee ones danced to country music (and Modest Mouse!) and tore open presents. It was a bit alarming at one point, as one of the girls kept asking "where's the rest?" What was that about inherent goodness? Not having to be taught to be greedy? Right. OK. No soapbox here. As we were leaving, several of the kids were completely engaged in Wii skateboarding.
-Visited with my mother, who remains in the same nursing facility. Her health is good, improving even, but she remains bedridden. Depression and fear are imposing adversaries. It will be 3 years this Feb. I have avoided entries on this topic, as it is draining, but perhaps I should make more effort. It does help to talk and write about it all. I have some ideas that I plan to finally put into action for her rehab, so stay tuned. Anyway, we brought her some turkey and ham with trimmings and also joined my grandmother there. We later took grandma to see the dazzling display of house lights/displays on a local street, famous for its spectacle. This is the type where thousands of lights border eaves and front lawns, where inflatable Santas wink at passersby. Every house on Gabriel Lane participates, and have for many years. It is gaudy, but great fun. My grandmother was filled with open-mouthed wonder. It was like experiencing Disney World with a child. I was struck with joy at this simple pleasure. We made her lonely world a bit brighter for a little while.
-Grandma also received a pink Snuggie from us. Yeah, OK, go ahead and laugh. She loved it, and it is perfect for her, for the handful of chilly nights we do get.
-I had purchased extra chocolates during my shopping and it was handed out to the family members of an abuela (and 2 doors down neighbor of my grandmother)who passed away on Christmas Eve. Several generations were packed into a small apartment to mourn. My wife (who speaks Spanish) and I visited for a bit. Many in attendence described how impressed with my grandmother they were, how even at 96 years of age she made her way over many days to see their relative, a lady who also had a long, rich life. It was a sad but still hopeful gathering. They were all very sensitive to how my grandmother would receive this distressing news. I was humbled. We haven't told her yet.
-We met an out-of-town friend at a PF Chang's (Holy MSG!!!) for a lively evening of catching up, including his very candid disclosure of his difficulties with his sister. She and the entire family need your prayers.
-A late lunch at Darbster, a new local vegan restaurant. How could I not have composed a post on this yet?? We've been there 3 times! Great place. Keep watching. Better yet, make plans to eat there in the near future. Remind me to tell you about the "chocolate" mousse.
-Spent part of Christmas Day at my mother-in-law's, with her usual fun group of friends, including Harry. I've written about him several times, as faithful readers will note. He had been asking me for months about a 1940s film called UN CARNET DE BAL. My research found, you may recall, that it was only available on VHS from Amazon Francais. Forty-one Euros (~62 U.S. dollars) and a few weeks later, I received an intriguing, stamp-laden parcel. Inside, along with the tape, was a short note in French (basically a "thank you and enjoy"). The tape was from a private seller. We left the videocassette and note in the envelope and gift wrapped the entire thing, for authenticity's sake. Harry was thrilled, as he had not seen this movie in many years. Criterion, are ya listenin'?
We also joked that Harry, a widower, could strike up a correspondence with this lady overseas, ala 84 Charing Cross Road. One never knows.
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