Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Memories bring back memories bring back you.

FIRST FIG


MY candle burns at both ends;
  It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends–
  It gives a lovely light!
-Edna St. Vincent Millay

First published in 1920, the year both my parents were born, this was one that my father loved to recite. It is from her collection "Few Figs from Thistles". 

***
The decorations are all put up but for the Nativity.
Loads of clothes are washed. Some are already dry.
The house is 2/3 vacuumed.
It is quiet.
We are recuperating from our coughs.
We will ring in the New Year quietly.
Wishing peace for all in 2020.
Shalom.  

 

Friday, December 27, 2019

Peace on earth...

Christmas indeed came in a whisper to our house this year.
A couple of neighbors came over to exchange gifts this year.
I usually go to their houses.
They didn't linger when I told them that 
Macho has been under the weather. 

This is fake news. We went together to pick out this tool he wanted.
I made him wrap and put it under the tree. 

However. I was surprised with this gift. Unbeknownst to me Macho had shopped all by hisownself and procured this new larger print Bible for me. It touched my heart. 

We have watched movies of the action variety. We've watched home videos. 
I think it is the calm before the storm. 
January promises to be uber busy. 

Bring on the storm.
Shalom. 



Tuesday, December 24, 2019

The Eve.

For many years I have quoted this poem. Here and other places. Humor me this one time. Just this once I will copy it in it's entirety. I am sorely missing Mom right now and I need to wallow for just a minute. And so. Shalom. Merry Christmas and may the love of Christ enter your heart and remain there.


Rock Me to Sleep

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight, 
Make me a child again just for tonight! 
Mother, come back from the echoless shore, 
Take me again to your heart as of yore; 
Kiss from my forehead the furrows of care, 
Smooth the few silver threads out of my hair; 
Over my slumbers your loving watch keep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 

Backward, flow backward, O tide of the years! 
I am so weary of toil and of tears,—      
Toil without recompense, tears all in vain,—   
Take them, and give me my childhood again! 
I have grown weary of dust and decay,—    
Weary of flinging my soul-wealth away; 
Weary of sowing for others to reap;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother – rock me to sleep! 

Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, 
Mother, O mother, my heart calls for you! 
Many a summer the grass has grown green, 
Blossomed and faded, our faces between: 
Yet, with strong yearning and passionate pain, 
Long I tonight for your presence again. 
Come from the silence so long and so deep;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 

Over my heart, in the days that are flown, 
No love like mother-love ever has shone; 
No other worship abides and endures,—       
Faithful, unselfish, and patient like yours: 
None like a mother can charm away pain 
From the sick soul and the world-weary brain. 
Slumber’s soft calms o’er my heavy lids creep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 

Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, 
Fall on your shoulders again as of old; 
Let it drop over my forehead tonight, 
Shading my faint eyes away from the light; 
For with its sunny-edged shadows once more 
Haply will throng the sweet visions of yore; 
Lovingly, softly, its bright billows sweep;—    
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep! 

Mother, dear mother, the years have been long 
Since I last listened your lullaby song: 
Sing, then, and unto my soul it shall seem 
Womanhood’s years have been only a dream. 
Clasped to your heart in a loving embrace, 
With your light lashes just sweeping my face, 
Never hereafter to wake or to weep;—      
Rock me to sleep, mother, – rock me to sleep!


Sunday, December 22, 2019

Charcuterie.

Having learned recently just what "charcuterie" is...Daughter suggested we eat that on the first night together for our Christmas celebration. The word got explained, described, and over abused until it became hysterical. Competition was started to see who could use it correctly the most times. 
Our smorgasbord weekend...
Charcuterie. 

Meat. 

And cheese. 

Mother and son by the Advent wreath.

Surprise! Beach Boy delivered Nuzzi Gelato for all!

The party.

On Saturday we joined with extended family for food and a quick visit.
In the past we have started early and lingered all day. To facilitate our immediate family celebration and gift sharing we needed to shorten our time at the nephew's house. 
 From now on our Christmas will probably morph frequently to accommodate the needs of the ages. 

I loved the messy fun of the weekend. Scenes with grandchildren all over the house will linger in my mind's eye.

Sunday morning and all made it to church. Even Jesus made the family photo.

I can hear a pin drop right now. 
The children have left.
Macho is napping in his chair.
The first load of towels are in the wash.

Christmas will come in a whisper to us this year. I will feast on the echo of laughter and love in this home. 

Happy Hanukkah.
Shalom. 


Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Friday, December 6, 2019

63 and me.

So the birthday has happened. It really was a very good day. I guess I have finally grown up. I am over the fact that Macho doesn't immediately wake up and tell me happy birthday. I really can't decide whether he forgets, or simply doesn't think it matters. This time it didn't have power over me.

This was my first birthday without my Mom. But I felt like she was with me all day. I saw and heard her in the little gems of my day...the cardinal that lit on the hydrangea bush outside Daughter's window, the chimes singing to me as I hung red Christmas ornaments on my front door swag, when I realized that there were exactly nine red ornaments....all significant and meaningful to me. I felt carried with love throughout the day as I heard from all of my children and all of my siblings and in-laws.

Just for fun...





Shalom!