Christmas Trees Past

CHRISTMAS TREES PAST

Sometime after Epiphany,
Bern takes the Christmas trees outside
and cuts off the branches
until only the trunk remains.

And the trunks stick around,
sometimes for years.

I was just out on the back porch,
smoking a cigarette,
(I know, I know, but I do!)
and there was a trunk from last year.

At first I thought of it as forlorn,
stripped, abandoned.
But then I looked through the window
and saw the tree for this year
in all it's glory.
Sparking with lights--
mostly white but colored in the middle--
which Bern did, of course
(I have no gift for lights...)
and spangled with ornaments
from years gone by.

Mimi's first Christmas ornament is there
(Josh's is long destroyed
but we keep it's wounded self'
on the mantle where the stockings hang).
The balloon lady who reminds
me of e.e. cumming's
"little lame balloon man",
who "whistled far and wee".

So many winged things--
angels and birds and a flying elephant
and soaring winged Hindu gods,
and angels of all kinds,
all kinds. Angels, always.

And the strawberry orniment
Josh got in pre-school,
when all the other kids
got toys of some kind.
It has ruptured much
and Bern has done surgery on it
from time to time.

Each ornament tells a story
of some Christmas past.

And I love them,
love them all.

Even the trunks that lean
against our deck.

Christmas present is infused
with Christmas' past.
Until all are one.

One. Christmas. Always.

Better now

Little Eleanor, 16 months old, is out of the hospital after an overnight stay.

All the blood tests and EEG came back with no definitive answer to why she had a seizure at daycare and another in the ambulance yesterday. She had one several months ago. Mimi and Tim haven't seen any of them. When they got to the hospital she seemed mostly normal.

She was released today.

Sometimes 'not knowing' is harder than 'knowing'. If they knew the 'why' to the seizures there would be things to be doing.

Keep the three of them in your hearts as we move toward the Light of Christmas.

I just realized

I just realized I haven't posted for almost a week.

I have excuses.

It's almost Christmas and I've been buying/wrapping/bagging gifts for a while--not that long really....

And I've had one of those early winter colds that gets better and then worse and then better again and then comes back. I blame Bern for giving it to me. So, I've been out of sorts.

Then I seem to have developed a rash that exactly conforms to the mask of my C-Path machine. I've had this machine for several years and all of a sudden I'm breaking out down the sides of my nose. Bern has begun to disinfect it as she did the toys at the day care she ran and it's some better. I can't see my dermatologist until January 2 but, of all things, Benedryl cream seems to be helping the itching that has woke me up at 4:30 a.m. for several nights.

Plus, I've been writing for Bern every day. For Christmas, she gives me something she has made or painted or constructed and I write her stories and poems and such. This year the writing has been difficult. I blame my depression over having He Who Will Not Be Named as my president and all the damage he is doing, left and right. (Just a phrase--the damage is all from the Right!)

But I finally finished a poem about 'Home' and a poem about our granddaughters and a story about Bela in the Kennel over Christmas and a sonnet. I used to write Bern sonnet after sonnet, but haven't for years since free verse is so much easier. But I wrote a sonnet for her today in about an hour and a half. 14 lines, iambic pentameter, a/b/a/b, c/d/c/d, e/f/e/f, g/g about my love for her.

So, I should be back.

But there's this--17 month old Eleanor had two seizures today--she had one months ago in school. Today there was one in pre-school and one in the ambulance. She's in the hospital for tests. Tim and Mimi, I'm sure, are beside themselves. They were supposed to come here on the 23rd and fly from Bradley in Hartford to Florida to see Tim's family late Christmas day. All that is in the air now.

If you pray or meditate or think sweet thoughts, send them out to Eleanor and Mimi and Tim. And to Bern and I if you have any left.

Lordy, Lordy--children and grand-children, how you worry....

If one day could do it....

If one day could turn around a year of agony, yesterday was that day.

For all my angst and upset over President He Who Will Not Be Named since his election and everything that has happened since. Yesterday restored my hope and longing for the country I want to live in--and it came from the most unexpected place.

Alabama.

I've never been in Alabama and until today I never wanted to be.

I'm a transplanted Appalachian in New England (the first hundred years are the hardest--then you belong here) but I've never been a Southerner. If you think people from the mountains are Southern, I could give you a lesson in why not.

I love going to Oak Island, North Carolina, but that's vacation land and doesn't really count as 'the South'. For most of my life 'the South' has stood for everything I don't stand for and Alabama has been the 'most South' place of all.

But the coalition of blacks, young people, city folks and suburban (small 'r') republican white women gave me faith that even in Alabama I could find a place to be.

I grew up in the Pilgrim Holiness Church and the Evangelical Methodist Church. I have a warm spot in my heart for white evangelical Christians. Some of the 'best people' I ever knew were those folks.

But the lies they've had to tell themselves to support Trump and then Roy Moore have tarnished my admiration for their position (without agreeing with their position much at all--I admired their stand). But the cracks in the wall of all the 'family values' and 'Biblical principles' have become very deep.

I pray they regain their previous moral stance and, though my moral stance is different, I long to respect them again.

But now I don't. How far you'd have to come from the faith of my grandmaw Jones and the Jones family to support Roy Moore is beyond belief.

We need Evangelical Christians in our midst to give us a plum line about morality.

The plum line has gone badly askew.

As the signs on barns throughout the south say: Get Right With God.

Heed that my white Evangelical brothers and sisters. Heed it well.

Heal and come back to be a compass in our midst. Please.

"Sweet Home, Alabama...."

Today I heard a devoted Evangelical Christian on NPR painfully and awkwardly explain why he was voting for Roy Moore. He said Doug Jones believed in a woman's right to abortion (the law of the land, by the way) and he decided he would rather vote for a man who abused "a few girls" than someone who sanctioned 'the death of millions of babies'.

Bless him for his attempt to justify what I find unjustifiable--a man who broke laws, albeit years ago, is better than a man who upholds the law.

But Alabama, against all my disbelief, did the right thing tonight.

Doug Jones won!!!!

Something is right in this somewhat crazy world.

I breathe a little deeper than I did this morning.

And I thank God for the people of Sweet Home, Alabama....

Winnie the Pooh and John the Baptist

So, I asked this question at the beginning of my sermon about John the Baptizer today: What do Winnie the Pooh and John the Baptist have in common?

I got the joke from a novel about an Anglican priest who had a previous career as an M-15 agent (England's FBI) and was always being dragged into mysteries with his bishop's permission. (I never told you about my years in the CIA, have I? Of course not. If I told you I'd have to kill you....)

I didn't expect anyone to really answer but Jody Bush said, "they both have fur". Yes, she is 'those Bushes--sister in law to the first president and aunt to the second.  And I must admit, since John dressed in camel's hair, I thought she was right on.

But the answer I had, from the mystery, was "the same middle name--'the'..."

Lame, I know, but I like it. I like lame jokes more often than not. "A rabbi a priest and an Imam go into a bar" and you've got me hooked.

I did, eventually, get serious, to some degree, about the Baptist, but I enjoyed the beginning...and Jody's answer....

Remembrance and Support

Tonight the Cluster Churches had a Service of Remembrance and Support. It is a service for those who find the Christmastide days painful because of the death  of a loved one, conflict in their family, lack of resources in a time of  'spending'--whatever.

It is a great idea.

I think most all of us have mixed feelings about Christmas. There is all the joy and banter and celebrating but there is a 'blue' side to Christmas for many folks.

The service inserts itself into the conversation. "Go ahead and celebrate, that's great." it says, "but don't forget the other side."

There are lovely prayers and readings and songs--and a liturgical dance this year--and, most, most of all the stark acknowledgement that 'Tis the season to be jolly' isn't always the reality.

I think more communities and churches should consider such an acknowledgement of the sadness and confusion around this time of year.

If you want a copy of what we used tonight email Bea at wecluster@sbcglobal.net and she'll send it to you.

Well worth doing....