“I don't
want to sound like a Hallmark card, but to be able to wake up each
day with food and shelter, that alone is good...If you're six feet
above ground it's a good day. So, give me more!”
Faith Hill
This month is heavy on
holidays—Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa. In most cultures, it is a
time of family gatherings, choirs caroling, delicious food, and
strings and strings of colored lights. We do our best to light up the
darkness of winter here in the northern hemisphere. We hold close the
people who give us happy hearts. And we especially miss those who are
not here in person to celebrate. One of the things I love most about
this time of year is the recounting of family stories—it's how we
bring into the circle those who are no longer “six feet above
ground.”
One of my favorite
memories from my sons' childhood was when we lived in Homewood, AL,
and had a white cat named Ralph. He was young then and wild as a
hare. We put up the Christmas tree in the sun room and carefully
decorated each bough. Someone had given us a package of brightly
plumed bird ornaments with long feather tails, which clipped onto the
tree. Young Ralph systematically retrieved those birds, climbing up
the tree and plucking them one by one. We found mangled and mutilated
birds under the beds, in the closets, and in just about every
possible hiding place in the house. He turned the tree over three
times in the process, destroying everything on it that was breakable.
I tried very hard not to bond with Ralphie—he was bad to the bone.
As fate would have it, he turned out to be my soul-cat, and when he
died in 1995, at the age of fifteen, I sat in the dirt of my garden,
pulled weeds and cried for days.
I hope during these days
of celebration, you will count your blessings and recall your joys
and sorrows. This is the time of year we make an annual pilgrimage to
the family stories; the ones we remember, and the ones we hear from
others. Pull out the old photos, and recount tales of those long
gone. They live on in you: in your habits and expressions, in your
recipes, in your eyes, and most of all, in your stories. Every time
you wake up and remember where you came from, and who you are because
they lived, now, THAT is a good day.
In the Spirit,
Jane
No comments:
Post a Comment