Christmas

“One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.” – Andy Rooney


So, the big day is nearly upon us and I say if it’s not done for Christmas by now, let it go. I will not, however, be following my own advice. I still have presents to wrap, a menu to plan and food to shop for – not to mention a rather lengthy list of last minute details to accomplish. But, that’s okay. A recent decision not to decorate the tree with anything but lights and shiny garland this year has freed up a bunch of time…

I like the cycle of Christmas, even though there is a predictable low point a few weeks in, where the spirit eludes me for awhile. I’m not alone in this; I’ve noticed it all over town. The happy excitement shopping generated right after Thanksgiving has been replaced with a sort of holiday slog, as people drag their kids and relatives up and down the store aisles, hoping to find something for that impossible person who is difficult to buy for.


Kids melt down and throw fits on the not-so-clean-anymore store floors. The elderly move especially slowly. Moms, daughters and sisters begin to bicker; husbands and dads turn a strange yellowish color under the fluorescent store lights – similar to the pallor a flu casts. Everyone looks tired, feels broke and becomes a little pinched generosity-wise. And, then, the fun returns.


I like sitting by the fire, wrapping presents and watching Christmas shows for the umpteenth time. I like listening to the cheesy music playing everywhere. And, I’m a big fan of holiday decorations – all kinds - the classy displays, the tacky displays, the big blow-ups and the bright lights. The brighter the better, I say. Christmas is the one time of the year where gaudy is not only tolerated it is glorious – at least in my mind.


I like the way complete strangers say, “Merry Christmas!” to each other. I enjoy sending and receiving holiday cards. I like looking at the pictures, opening the pretty envelopes and reading the hand-written notes. And, those holiday letters – priceless! I have one relative who generates the worst poem imaginable every year and somehow manages to surpass herself in terrible-ness year after year. It’s amazing! Mr. Clark and I look forward to the arrival of her card just so we can read it aloud to each other, over and over again. Holiday hoaky-ness – you gotta’ love it!

This year, in an act of holiday hoaky or “it’s the thought that counts,” we sent a poinsettia to Mr. Clark’s dad and his wife. They live in California; we never see or hear from them; it’s the first gift we’ve given them in years. I almost didn’t send them anything again this year, but it’s been a good year and I thought, what the heck? No reason to be a Scrooge every year.


As soon as that poinsettia arrived, Mr. Clark’s dad got on the phone and called us, sounding so pleased and happy Mr. Clark almost didn’t recognize his voice. The elder Mr. Clark described the color of the plant and every detail of the container. He told us how nice the delivery person had been and went on and on about how perfect that plant was for this certain spot in their living room. Now this, coming from a wealthy curmudgeon whose wife used to be an interior decorator, was really quite something.


Mr. Clark and his dad had a long conversation and, by the time they hung up, had caught up and actually sounded close again - all that over an FTD delivery. It wasn’t, of course, about the poinsettia; it was, in this case, indeed, the thought that had counted. Apparently, being remembered by us at Christmas meant more to Mr. Clark’s dad and his wife than any of us would have ever guessed.


Bob Hope said, “When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things - not the great occasions - give off the greatest glow of happiness.” And, I have found that to be true. As much as I enjoy agonizing over the gifts, the decorations and the details, it’s the sound of my family, all laughing together under one roof again, that I remember the most fondly and look forward to each year.


Merry Christmas to you and yours, and may God bless us everyone in the New Year!

Bah, Humbug!

“He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.” – Roy L. Smith



This is my “Bah! Humbug!” time of year. The warm glow of Thanksgiving and initial excitement about Christmas has passed, and the sure-to-occur thankful happiness that Christmas brings has yet to happen. Where I am now is buried in unfinished tasks and a “To Do” list so long there’s no way I can get it all crossed off by December 24.


My mood is not festive and I am feeling overwhelmed. With Mr. Clark’s help, I have managed to accomplish the first round of holiday chores, which includes buying, packing and shipping the out-of-town gifts, designing and ordering this year’s Christmas card, putting the tree up, and pulling the one million and one Christmas bins out of the attic.


I still have to decorate the tree, finish shopping, wrap our gifts, write our festive annual holiday letter, finish decorating the house, and hang the wreaths…Good grief! It’s December 15 and my wreaths aren’t up yet? And, did I mention? My house hasn’t been cleaned in weeks.


Of course, this is all self-inflected, self-created torture. The holidays don’t have to be about any of this. The year Mr. Clark was out of work we didn’t buy anything and my “To Do” list was very short. It mostly involved things like, “Remember we still have our health,” and, “At least our kids are doing well, ‘Thank You, Santa!’”


And, while it wasn’t’ our happiest holiday season ever, we did manage to find some Christmas cheer and I didn’t spend the entire month of December pulling my hair out and yelling things like, “I can’t remember the last time I did something I actually wanted to do!” Ouch!


Christmas should be a humble, happy time – a time to do good for others and reflect on one’s own blessings. It shouldn’t be the task-laden Holidaypalooza it so often turns into; but, how to re-seize the spirit?


Well, as the Good Lord so often does, He stepped into my heart the other day and got me back on track. I volunteer at a clinic for people with no money or health insurance on Mondays and this past Monday was a busy day. LOTS of sick folks, a long line of people waiting to be seen, and one of the two nurse practitioners was out sick. The other one had to take her husband to the doctor, so she called and said she wasn’t sure when she could make it, but she would come in.


It was so cold in the drafty old building where the clinic is, that everyone waiting to be seen ended up crowded into the small reception area where my “job” is to man the desk, take calls and manage traffic flow. One of the things on the reception desk is a bin of hotel soaps, shampoos and lotions that people donate to the clinic for patients to take home for free. Since many of the clients are homeless or staying at Salvation Army or having really hard times, this bin generates a lot of interest – especially on a cold day when everyone waiting to be seen is huddled in the reception room trying to stay warm.

This week there was also a box of brightly wrapped packages in the reception room - hats, socks, gloves and scarves the Fall batch of volunteers from the medical school donated to give away “One gift per patient only, please.”


As the waits got longer with no nurse practitioner in sight, the mood in the reception room soured. Questions like, “Are we ever going to be seen?” and “Is that nurse even coming in?” began to be grumbled, louder and louder. We started turning patients away and rescheduling others – it didn’t look good.


And, then, a retired nurse who dispenses the medications at the clinic, came out of the back and said, gaily, “Has everyone here gotten their Christmas gift?”


One by one, the patients went to the box or asked me for what they needed. “I’d like one of them boxes with a hat and sox,” one homeless man said. Another woman asked if she could have one of the kids’ presents instead of her own, “for my grandbaby who’s waiting at home.”

Opening and donning the gifts took the edge off the tone in the reception room. And, then, one of the patients started digging through the hotel samples, showing others the particularly fine finds, passing them out as if she were Santa Claus. Before long, the atmosphere was downright festive.


The nurse arrived, the patients were seen and the day ended with everyone wishing everyone, “Merry Christmas!” I left the clinic feeling a lot warmer inside than when I’d arrived. So what if some of those holiday tasks don’t get done? Watching those folks’ genuine happiness over some donated hats, sox and hotel toiletry samples had given me a fresh perspective.
 
The Ghost of Christmas Present told Ebeneezer Scrooge, “There is never enough time to do or say all the things we would wish. The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Scrooge, time is short and suddenly, you’re not here any more.” Amen! Mr. Ghost, amen!

Soldiers

“From the bitter cold at Valley Forge, to the mountains of Afghanistan and the deserts of Iraq, our soldiers have courageously answered when called, gone where ordered, and defended our nation with honor.” – Solomon Ortiz



Thank heavens for soldiers! For there are those of us who enjoy the safety and freedoms they have consistently fought to maintain for us, yet do not have the stuff of which they are made, and so are not able to fight.


I was reminded of this last week when I attended the departure ceremony for the local National Guard Blackhawk unit that has been deployed to Iraq. With the exception of my grandfather, who served in the Army as a dentist during World War II, there are no soldiers in my family and so it was with great awe, an aching heart and more than one tear in my eye that I photographed the event for this paper.

There is nothing in me that tells me how to tell a husband, father, son, daughter, wife or, in some cases, grandfather, “Goodbye!” knowing that, because they have been called up, they are now headed straight for harm’s way.


There is nothing in me that comprehends the bravery with which people sign up to become soldiers. There is nothing in me that understands how families endure the uncertainties, separations and hardships they endure, year in and year out, in service of our country.


To me, all of these things are amazing – which is not to say I’m not from a family of good citizens and patriotic Americans – it’s just that we’ve never sacrificed in those ways.


I remember the first time I left my two small children in day care, part-time, for four hours a day, three days a week. It was gut-wrenching for me and they hated it…How did that brave young mother stand so tall and proud, smiling in front of that helicopter, holding her four-year-old son so that I could photography them, knowing it would be a year before she sees him again?


Mr. Clark travels for work and, at times, he’s been gone for as long as a month or two. I can’t imagine sending him off with that brave, tired, proud smile I saw on the faces of those Army wives – not for a month or two, but for a year or more – with no assurance he’d come back unharmed.


And, my grown children - they were blessed with the opportunity to study abroad during college, which wonderful as that was, made me miss them a lot and worry too much…How, how, how do all of those parents send their beloved children/soldiers away, with all of those well-wishes, bright smiles and well-masked fears not knowing how and when they may return again?


They are a different breed, those soldiers of ours and their families. I admire, respect and marvel at their ability to carry on, with braveness, humor and dignity, in the face of circumstances someone like me can not imagine and could not handle.

There was a particularly vitriolic (as in severely bitter or caustic) posting by a blogger this week, about the pictures and brief article on the departure ceremony. He/she called it, “militaristic nonsense,” and went on to say, “to trumpet the latest dispatch of weekend warriors as anything other than another expensive spasm of…the military-industrial complex is…disgusting simple-minded rah-rah journalism.”


Wow! In what country defended by a military like ours, upheld by a constitution like ours, would this yah-hoo not end up in prison or dead by publicly voicing such an opinion? I say, shame on you, sir or ma’am! Your lack of context and humility is appalling.


In response, another blogger said, “That you take exception to the need for such a call…is fine, but they are to be respected…for their sacrifices.”


And, that is where I end this column.


I do not and have never supported the war in Iraq or Afghanistan; however, the brave men and women called to that duty – our soldiers, mothers, fathers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, uncles, aunts, cousins, coworkers and grandparents – deserve our unwavering support, thanks and prayers, as do their families.


God speed and I look forward to attending/photographing the ceremony honoring your return home!

Have & Have Not

“Just as a puppy can be more of a challenge than a gift, so too can the holidays.” – John Clayton



The holidays are upon us and at no time are we more aware of “have” and “have not” than at this time of year. Two Christmases ago, Mr. Clark was out of work and we were out of money. There were no gifts under the tree (that our grown daughter bought us, out of love, fond memories and pity) and try as we all did, the comfort to be found in a non-material celebration eluded us, as we sat at the meal our grown son prepared, pretending not to hear the wolves howling outside our door.


Last year, Mr. Clark had work again – a good job that afforded us the luxury of not only having a modest Christmas ourselves, but also helping a couple of recently unemployed friends make sure Santa came to their houses and left a few treats for their kids.


This year we are bountifully blessed and so, in addition to being a little more generous with each other and our kids, we are able to help friends and family still struggling in the grips of this vile recession and we have “adopted” a Holiday Connection family.


Barrow County Holiday Connection is a cooperative effort between the local schools, DFACS, churches and service organizations that, for the past 12 years, has made the holidays a little more merry and bright for kids whose families are having a hard time. This year there are 450 families who have been screened and identified as truly in need of help and, due to the continued economic strain on most folks, donations are down from past years.


“Our” family is a grandmother raising two grandchildren by herself. The girl is seven, the boy is five and their wish list is simple. He likes Batman, Spiderman, Superman, cars and trucks; she likes ZuZu pets, “hair things,” and makeup. They both need pants, shirts and “maybe a warm coat,” as the family recently moved from Florida where “it never gets this cold.”

I admit, I was a little apprehensive about “adopting” a family with kids this age – after all, those are the peak “please, Santa, make my Christmas dream come true” years and I wasn’t sure an X-Box, Wii or other expensive requests would be within our reach this year. And, then I got their list - oh, my! How un-humble and materialistic do I need to be? There are kids out there still just hoping for coats…


Mr. Clark and I went out on Black Friday to take advantage of certain sales and shop for “our” family locally. I like venturing out on that over-hyped day because it puts me in the mood for the holidays – not so much in the buying that I do as in the spirit of giving I see. This year I saw an elderly man leaving a store with a big smile on his face, the only item in his shopping bag a huge Lego set that I’m sure he got a great Black Friday deal on…I like imagining how happy his grandchildren will be when Grandpa surprises them with the Lego set of their dreams.


I like listening to families debating certain gifts for certain folks and, maybe due to the big excitement Black Friday brings, doing it in a nice way, a happy way, a way that says Christmas is going to be a good one for them this year. I like the lines, the big sale signs and the notion that this many people are having fun spending money on someone else on this particular day....I am also saddened by the thought of all the people who are not in these stores and will not get any gifts this Christmas because, for whatever reasons, their lives have strayed so far from anything even remotely magical that they are alone not only during the holidays, but every day of the year.


Mr. Clark hates shopping. He would rather do almost anything than shop – especially on a zoo day like Black Friday. I was pleased that he wanted to come with me, even if the only reason was to “make sure you don’t go crazy” while hunting down those holiday deals.


And maybe, not surprisingly, we had the best time we’ve had in a long time – shopping for two kids we’ll probably never meet. He found deals I didn’t spot and I suggested additions to “our” family’s list that he agreed with. We scoured the sale bins, debated colors, sizes and relative toy fun values. We ended up going to several stores to get what we wanted, but when we were done, we had the list accomplished affordably - plus a little bit more. I can hardly wait to wrap and then, just before Christmas, deliver those gifts.


If there’s anything our past few Christmases have taught us, it’s that giving is, indeed, WAY more fun than receiving.


The Holiday Connection Coordinator is Michelle Walker, 770-868-4258; it’s not too late to adopt a family, donate toys, send money, or volunteer.