Friday, December 15, 2017

Family Pilgrimage

Remember When...

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: