lisamoniquekent

Finding Home

Jingle Bells.

Merry Christmas Eve from wintery Vermont. Today the elements promise a white Christmas. Snow, of course. A chuff of chill, a bit of bluster. And plowed roads. As my daughters say, “We’re good.” This mid-day; it’s my quiet time. No more shopping, no more chores, no more deliveries. All is well.

My dad’s last brother, in fact his last living sibling, died last night. He was 90. They started off with thirteen children, I think. I remember their names: Roland, Gerard, Wilfred, Roger, Rene, Rita, Alice, Arthur, Raymond, Lucien, Cleanda, Liliane, and Normand. They are not in birth order, but my Uncle Raymond was the last of them. I thought at first that this meant the end of the line. But no, because all of us children continue on, with our children, and their children. Still, it’s the end of something.

I’m told that deaths around Christmas are common. But my Uncle Raymond wasn’t common. He knew about circuitry and plumbing and how to fix just about any machine. I remember his coming over to fix my parents’ old washer–kept it going long after it expected to remain. He sang well, had an ear that harmonized to just about any piece of music. And he knew his Bible. I think he was the tallest uncle I had. Keep his family in your thoughts and prayers this Christmas, will you?

We’ve been watching another season of the British Baking Show, and this afternoon, my younger daughter and I will make our own challenge. In three hours, we’ll bake and decorate a Christmas cake, pretending that we are in the great, white tent, using all of the British cooking words we know. “Do you care for a tipple?” I’ll ask. “Oh–you’re getting boozy,” she’ll answer. We haven’t figured out what a marchpane is, but we’re pretty good at making things up.

I wish you all a sweet Christmas, especially that one moment when you feel something really good, that moment when your load lessens and your mind and soul and body say, “Ahhhhh.” The release of tension. The love of family and neighbor. The “you go before I.” Christmas cheer.

Me, I’m feeling it now, as I listen to George Winston’s December and prepare to make salads for lunch. Jingle bells. All is well. Merry Christmas.

Lisa

 

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Assortment

Finding Home

barcelona flaneuse

I've been to Barcelona three times and I'm ready to return!

Down to Earth

Finding Home

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

%d bloggers like this: