time keeps on slippin', slippin' slippin....

A whole week, no, more than a week has gone by and despite my grand intention to be more regular in my blogging, life has gotten in the way.

This has been a good week, punctuated by walks and yoga and regular, every day routine. Appreciating and celebrating the ordinary has been very prevalent. This second week at home, after the most satisfactory vacation, has me settled nicely into enjoying spring and being at work with renewed enthusiasm. The holiday has faded into some delightful memories and the flakes of my tan littering the inside of my socks. There is a degree of contentment.

The down side (if there is one) to a contented week, is that it has slid away very quickly - is it possible to be present and unconscious at the same time? I found myself several times suddenly aware that I was holding my breath - and quickly whooshed out the stale air and inhaled intentionally. While I love being a grandmother, there is no denying which side of the long life slope I am on, so I am relishing experiences and treasuring instances of laughter and delight.

I have been aware of other people's tragedies this week - losses of friends, parents, pets and as always, the state of the world looks challenging and daunting, but even with that awareness, I feel light and determined to be creating magic. Perhaps some of my thaumaturgy could be in freezing the moment and finding a way to hold on to it for just a little longer.

Image credit to Temari09

T'is the season...

Every December since I became conscious (wait, was that last year? or the year before?) I have been aware of this anticipation of the Christmas "feeling". I actually spent some time as a teenager (when I wasn't writing angst ridden poetry) contemplating what the feeling was and how to capture it as I matured (again, was that in 2007 or 2008?). I only knew that it was what I anticipated each year and it seemed, upon examination, to be equal parts waiting impatiently for the day to arrive, the preparation which included baking, shopping, wrapping and tree decorating and an ill described sense of goodwill to all men.

That goodwill bit, now described as an accounting term or an organization of assistance to those in the depths of despair, seems antiquated and quaint - Charles Dickens'ish. Yet that is the very embodiment of the Christmas spirit to me and every year since recollection has had me start this season of indulgence and merriment with a desire to share that goodwill with everyone.

I know that I am wrapped in the Currier and Ives vision of Christmas. I admit that I have expectations of how it is supposed to look and sound and smell. Last year, I created the closest recreation of that ever. The fresh pine tree, chopped down by my very own husband after tromping through a forest (okay, it was a Christmas tree plantation, but let me keep some of my illusions, alright?!), decorated carefully and lit up in the window of a house large enough to entertain my entire family. We had a fully laden larder, a fridge full of yummy food, an abundance of beverages and even gently falling snow. Perfect, right? Turned out that the snow slowed and almost completely derailed the family's arrival, with treacherous driving conditions. The abundance of (alcoholic) beverages was challenging to some of the members of the group and everyone woke up the next morning having to dash off before the weather closed in again. I was left at 10 am on Boxing Day with the consummate Christmas done in less than 24 hours, a messy, empty house and a ton of left overs with no one to share them with (except my grateful husband who loves turkey sandwiches).

In the week leading up to that event, I was so excited to be able to provide this amazing Christmas to share with my loved ones and truthfully, I treasured every single minute of it (except some of the beverage-induced silliness) and would do it again, but only if we could all enjoy it longer - people should plan on spending at least 5 or 6 days with me - before and after. Then. I would be happy.

Hmmm, perhaps there are some unrealistic expectations lurking here. What is genuinely there for me is that I almost don't want to begin a season of disappointment, so I am putting off even pulling out the decorations because if last year wasn't precisely ideal, given all the right conditions, how will I ever be able to have the Christmas that I dream of?

Now, my daughter has had her son and has asked to begin the passing down of the traditions, ornaments and celebration. This passing of the torch is appropriate and makes perfect sense that the next generation hosts and holds the family gathering. I am left, like I was in my bedroom as a 15 year old, wondering where the magic went. Time to read "Yes, Virginia, there IS a Santa Claus" "...Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world." Thank you, Francis P Church, Editor of the New York Sun.

I will find enchantment and charm this season. I will bake and cook and share lovely times with friends and loved ones. I will find ways to give and be generous and open. I will hang my stocking and eagerly watch for the sparkle and glow in the faces of those around me. I will hold the Spirit of Christmas in my heart!

A baby is born...

My life changed direction yesterday - suddenly, inexplicably and completely. The wondering and pondering about the new role, the strange doppelganger experience of having your daughter pregnant with a child, the oddly remote sensation of touching her huge belly feeling the baby push back, the flashback quality of the memories of being in the same state - all of that is gone! The minute I witnessed that little human being on my daughter's chest, still attached to her physically but already interacting independently with his world, I realized in my bones that my world had shifted. I cannot wait to spend time with him, to talk to him, read to him, sing with him, laugh with him. From here, this vantage point of a generation removed, I get to be engaged with him from the time honoured status of grandmother.

Now, this whole "elder"thing has me a little daunted - it implies wisdom, experience and knowledge. Yah, uh huh, okay... not so sure about that part. However, I get a glimpse, no more than a glimpse, it is a gut level certainty about how connected we are - he is blood of my blood. I will have the privilege and responsibility for his safety in the world, his outlook on it all, how he will associate and communicate and how he will feel about himself. But I get to do all of this not from the intense, direct, sometimes overly myopic perspective of a parent but from over here where it is both a choice and a duty.

Being a grandparent - this is the playground where parents get to "do-over". I get the tremendous opportunity to be for baby Kai all the ways I wish I had been with my kids, knowing what I know now.

I am starting to get this whole circle of life thing (cue the Disney theme song...).

Finally, I want to acknowledge that I was able to experience this miracle of him being born, to have been of service to Tia and Jesse, who openly and willingly shared this incredible moment in their lives. They welcomed me to be with them, not as an observer but as an integral part of Kai's birth. I am humbled by this common occurrence that happens all over the world many times every day and each time results in this magical little being, whose life is just beginning; such unimaginable potential in their perfect tiny fingers, untapped brilliant thoughts in that sweet, little head.

I am blessed!!