Christmas week

Fallen leaves or stars?

Lately, I have been inundated with memories of years past, thinking of my family, my friends, and how much has changed in my life as the decades progress. It's almost as though the years bring me into different worlds, and people whom I love and who love me come and go. Once upon a time I was a young mother, with two small children. Now I have no living children and am an old woman. In between those two events, I have lived a full life, with the days passing one at a time, but imperceptibly changing from one stage to another. The loss of my first child, when I was only 22, was the first major life event that caused my world to turn upside down. He was an infant, just over a year old, when he died of spinal meningitis. He got sick in the afternoon and died that very night. They say that sudden death is harder to bear than a gradual one, and I have to agree.

But death and dying are as much a part of life as are new birth and celebrations of joy. We all live through both extremes if we are on this planet long enough. And sometimes I find myself astonished to realize how much I have lived through, and how much has changed since I first became a mother. Stephen died in September, and I still remember how hard it was for me to see the first snowflakes fall onto the earth that now housed the grave of my child. I wanted to keep him safe and warm, and I could not bear that he was gone. The loss of a child is one that I wish upon nobody, although eventually the hole in my heart scarred over and allowed me to once again laugh and smile. But it took a long time, and I feel empathy for all who suffer such a grievous loss.

Although it's been more than half a century since it happened, there are flashes of memory that can bring it all back as if it happened yesterday. When I see the image of the Christ Child in a manger, wrapped in his mother's arms, I can easily transport myself into the scene. A happy one, although not unlike many mothers who even today don't know how they will protect their child from harm. You have to take every moment and celebrate happiness when and where you find it. It's not permanent; nothing is. Life is constant change, and we find little snippets of joy intermingled with sadness. I have found that there is only one way to deal with life's vicissitudes, and that is to be grateful for all of it, the highs and the lows, the moments of great sorrow mingled with the moments of great happiness.

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. —Melody Beattie

 These days, I find friendship in the most unlikely places. Being in the middle of a pandemic, the stores are not packed during this Christmas week, but there are more people in them than I've encountered in months. I stay out of them, for the most part, but I realize there are many people, friends that I have grown very fond of, that I would like to acknowledge with a gift. Fortunately, I can shop online and send them something they would like, and I know how much they would appreciate being remembered. That is my task for the coming week: bring joy into lives of others. Not to mention that it also makes me happy.

One friend, someone I will probably never meet, has gifted me with a season of 11 episodes of a reality show. Now I am not one who watches things like this usually, but because it is a gift, I accepted it. The show, Alone, is about ten people who agree to spend 100 solitary days in the Arctic wilderness, in hopes of making it to the end and a reward of a million dollars. They are helicoptered into different places and deposited with ten approved items of survival gear and a satellite phone that can be used to contact someone to bring them out if necessary. They also have camera equipment and are expected to document their experiences. I have watched three episodes and already two people have chosen to leave, and it's only been a week or so.

It has also been an eye opener for me, thinking about whether I could survive in such circumstances. The answer is simply "no." I think the hardest part would be hunting game and catching fish, not knowing how to even begin such a task. And building a shelter. Most of the participants are well versed in all of that and welcome the challenge. I can put myself in their positions without having to actually do it myself, thanks to the series. I wonder if most of them are introverts, because I realize I would also seriously miss the interaction with other people. It also makes me realize how much I depend on basic necessities like clean water and food to eat that I don't have to kill first. Anyway, I give thanks for the possibility to peek into these people's adventure, and it also gives me a new perspective on all the amenities of simple living that I take for granted.

I am impressed at how many of the participants give thanks when they kill a creature, and the level of compassion they show as they make it into food. I'm not sure I give enough appreciation for the bounty I have in my own life, and that is one thing I won't forget soon: to give thanks for the incredible riches that surround me. Thank you, dear friend, for this gift of a new perspective on life.

As I sit here in the dim light of my laptop, listening to my dear partner breathing softly next to me as he sleeps, and I think of the day ahead, it is another gift I keep forgetting to appreciate: that I can actually get up, dress, and head out the door for what could be an adventure of a different sort. It's important as I age to get the most out of every day. Right now I am reading Obama's latest book, and although it's long and detailed, he is a gifted writer and knows how to make me feel like I'm right there with him as he moves from being an unknown quantity to the celebrity he is today.

That reminds me to also be grateful for the gift of sight. Although I suffer from age-related macular degeneration (AMD), I can still see well enough to read books, if I am careful to use my reading glasses and take plenty of breaks. Long gone are the days when I could read for hours without thinking about it. The missing vision in one eye is compensated by the other eye, but I also know that it's not the same. To see certain images, I have to look off to the side and not focus right on the image itself. I got used to doing this and now hardly notice how I have had to adapt. I am grateful that I can still read, and I'm nearing the next decade of life. I'm damn near eighty!

But, that said, I hope to be around for awhile yet. It takes some getting used to, finding ways to appreciate what remains still within my purview, and it is plenty. One thing I will never stop being grateful for is this amazing ability to sit and stare at an empty screen and watch the words flow out, even if I don't always produce a masterpiece, something always comes to share with you, my dear readers. And in a few minutes I'll be able to hit "publish" and my words will reach out into the blogosphere, shared with whoever is interested. I am definitely filled with gratitude for having this magic at my fingertips.

I do hope this Christmas week will bring you joy, as I know it will for me. By the time next Sunday rolls around, we'll be looking forward to putting this year to bed and getting ready for 2021. Until we meet again next week, I wish you good health and all the love and happiness you deserve. I send you my love, dear friends.