This Time of Year

 It's Christmas.

For retail and online sales, it's been Christmas for months. But now it is Christmas for all. I am a sappy sentimentalist. I buy Hallmark ornaments for my kids (incidentally Classic Cars are sold out and I REALLY need one for my son...). I watch movies and even replays of Christmas episodes of sitcoms and court cases. Yes, I watched the "Matlock" episode this morning with a very young Brian Cranston playing the part of the suspect. I am fully engulfed in every silly, shallow Christmas tradition and my house looks like an alien spaceship landing site. 

I love Christmas. I love it for all the traditional reasons-the Nativity, the celebration of the Birth of Christ and all that rolls out before us in the New Testament originating with this one act. Sadly, I am a Lapsed Catholic. I miss the Advent wreaths and sermons anticipating the birth of Christ. But I left the Catholic Church, for the time being, because of a creeping wokeness that led one misbegotten member of the to use Passion Sunday to lecture the congregation on social justice. That was on top of the previous hiding of predatory priests. My husband and I were (unfortunately) married by Rudy Kos. He was the first domino to fall in that debacle. But I miss the liturgy, the music, the candles, Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve with early breakfast after. I feel like it has been stolen from me thanks to COVID and social forces. I yearn for the sights and smells and sounds like an addict seeking their drug of choice. Its absence saddens me and makes Christmas difficult.

Christmas, like all such events, is a day of happy visits and sad absences. I think of Dad, who died on Christmas Day 2002. Imagine me, still a relatively young mother, coming home with three kids on Christmas night only to get that phone call from East Texas. We were heading there the next day. Instead we had to plan a funeral, driving in the dark of night with three sad sleeping children to sleep on a lumpy bed and plan. It began one of the more difficult periods of my life. It was that point I found out just how helpless my Mom was and how much I would have to parent her along with my own children.

The years passed. Christmas stayed as festive as I could measure. Mom would always be included and her needs accounted for first. My children grew into adults and adaptations to the celebration moved from Christmas Day to Christmas Eve. Our celebration of gifts and gathering became a feast of tamales, enchiladas, beans and all the Christmas cookies you could eat. Our grandchildren could share that night with us, leaving Christmas morning for them to establish their own traditions-a point I believe is important because if you always go to Grandma's house for Christmas, then the traditions you hold die when Grandma passes? Parents of adult children need to learn to allow their children the freedom to create their own traditions. 

I wouldn't lie and tell you I am giddy all the time about Christmas. I work very hard to create events that will make others happy. I don't think I always succeed. There are always misses as well as hits. My daughter is divorcing which is a source of pain for us all. My brother is estranged from the family still, although his war with Dad should've been buried 20 years ago when Dad passed. My in-laws are still somewhat overbearing and demanding. Our nation is at a critical stage with people in charge who seem to embrace evil over good. Those things weigh on me. But I am trying very hard to bear up under the disappointment and resentment that such actions can create. I'm reading uplifting accounts and reading through commentaries on Christmas along with a book of Newberry Award winning Christmas stories. I think as adults, we all seek that spark of joy and a few of us achieve it. But most of us, just like the Magi, will spend the next year searching for the Divine Spark that can delight and heal. 

I wish all of you a Merry Christmas, a blessed New Year and a 2023 that is a delivery from the burders we seem to have chained to our ankles over the last three years.

Futures

Once again, I face the task of dismantling Christmas. I admit to being sentimental. I have the nativity set I bought piece by piece from Avon when my kids were small. I set it out each year, surrounded with angels in its own little environment. I have the crafty glitter-laden ornaments my children made, the marbled ones my daughter and I made more recently and a collection of ornaments dating back from our first Christmas as a married couple (we found a tree on Christmas Eve, thrown out by a nearby office and an old string of lights which ended up burning the carpet of our apartment) We didn't have a star that first year, so I illustrated one. It still tops our tree. There's ornaments for the times our children were baseball players, dancers, musicians. And in taking down these memories from our tree, I wonder who will collect them when I am gone.

Each of these pieces were a part of our family. Yet my children don't seem interested in pursuing the idea of children. I know they would be great parents. My son and his wife are wonderful people. My daughter and her husband are great with kids. But it doesn't seem as if they are even considering becoming parents. Perhaps it has to do with their economic struggles. All these thirty somethings work hard at jobs that offer little real security or long term promise. Although they've paid off student loans and bought houses, they all seem more interested in acquiring things than being parents. Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I feel that becoming a parent has been the making of my youngest son. I truly don't think you can look beyond yourself until someone else depends on you for everything. But my grandson lives with his mom and step-father. Any memories we would leave him probably wouldn't be especially valued by him because his mother wasn't involved.

I look at the shiny balls and smiling angels and wonder if they will end up as just a lot sold as antique in some shop. Or worse, I fear that my memories and theirs will simply end up in a landfill, forgotten. I don't want to be the stereotypical Mom who asks when I'm going to have grandkids but golly, I see families with far less having kids out the door. I want someone to carry on. I want someone to remember us. I want a baby to love and spoil unconditionally.

In our nation, the birthrate is dropping. I think too many of the next generation have decided it's not worth the time and bother to become parents. That's sad because that kind of love simply doesn't exist outside of becoming a parent. Maybe things will change. Right now, I'm pretty sad.

The Illustrated Star

My husband and I have been married for 32 years. We've been together nearly 40 years. Neither of our families was wealthy. HIs family had so many kids and my family just never seemed to accumulate wealth. I went to college on a Pell Grant. My husband went to college for one year because his Dad was a self made man and believed if people wanted college they would pay for it themselves. Nobody gave us anything because nobody was in the position to give us anything. We never asked.

Our first Christmas two months after we married was bittersweet. We lived in a small, bug infested suburban apartment and we were so strapped for cash we couldn't afford a tree. I guess Christmas was on a Friday or Saturday because two days before Christmas we found a medium sized tree in the dumpster. We took it home, put it in water. I borrowed old (and probably hazardous) lights from my parents, bought pressed glass ornaments from the dollar bin at Pier One and our tree was set-except for the star. My Christmas trees have always had stars. The star signaled the shepherds and wise men. The star signaled hope and gave direction. I went and dug out my colored pencils and drew a star. The star was flat, made from thick scrap illustration board from my class. But I drew it so that it looked three dimensional. It has been on our tree for 32 years.

Our Christmases came and went. I started each child on a collection of ornaments. Mike had cars. Bobby had puppies. Christi had cute little animals. As they grew, the collections grew. And then the kids moved out, married and now have their own Christmas trees with their own pieces of our Christmases on them. I will never have a designer tree. Oh yes, they're beautiful and make wonderful backdrops for the holiday photos, but my trees and my ornaments are little pieces of my memory. Memories don't always conform to fashion. And they shouldn't.

When I look at my kids, none of whom are wealthy or in prestigious careers, but who are good people who work hard and pay their bills, it makes me fear for them. It seems that virtues like honesty and honor, trust and faith, love and respect are no longer part of the fabric of the American Dream. Fame, notoriety, provocative behavior and greed seem to trump the sweetness of what used to be goals. I'm not sure who speaks for my children anymore. They have no champions in their corner. All I can cling to is that time changes everything and life is more a roller coaster ride than a road. Let's hope this pendulum swings back before we lose more than just Christmas, but our souls.

Have a Very PC Winter Holiday

Once again, those steeped in political correctness attempt to make amends for actions that offend almost nobody. In Philly, the world"Christmas" is to be obliterated from the arch of a traditional holiday fair. It's ludicrous, especially in context that this was supposed to be a replica of a German village. Why is it that so many people who claim to embrace Freedom of Religion, seems to be so hellbent on denying that freedom to others.

It's like television. There are shows I hate-mostly reality shows and celebrity gossip shows-and shows I love. I don't want the other shows taken off the air, I just don't watch them. I don't want anyone else deprived of their worship and in schools and government we are urged to respect the rights of those who are out during feasts such as Ramadan, Eid, Yom Kippur, Chinese New Year and heaven knows what else. But where are the champions for those who want to express their Christian views?

I their wacky goony PCness, government entities large and small seem to be more reminiscent of hooting owls that turn their heads hooting angrily should anyone dare to disturb the status quo. They issue mandates banning this nativity scene, that Christmas sign and issue orders to respond "happy holiday" in an attempt to offend no one. Seriously, what kind of person is offended by good wishes even if it is in the context of someone's faith? I grew up in an area where there were three large synagogues. On Friday I would offer our neighbors a cheerful "Good Sabbath" just as they would wish my family a "Happy Easter" during the Paschal Feast. Freedom of religion doesn't mean freedom FROM religion. Frankly the forces of the Left who continue to play religion's gadflies end up alienating far more people than they attract. I won't wish them Merry Christmas if they can't handle it. But I wonder what kind of person would rather hear nothing than accept a wish of good will.

In that regard, I offer a recap of this column by
Kathleen Vallee Stein / December 16, 2009 Monrovia, Calif.
http://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/Opinion/2009/1216/Is-it-OK-to-wish-Jews-a-Merry-Christmas

Like most Jews, I don’t take offense when someone wishes me a Merry Christmas. I take it in the spirit in which the salutation is intended: a generic greeting that doesn’t hold deep religious meaning. I put it up there with “Have a nice day.”

It’s a dark time of year and for me the lights, decorations, illuminated trees, and greetings of Christmas cheer are an attempt to lighten things up, that’s all. On a deeper level, the wish of a Merry Christmas means: Let’s get through the dark winter months until the sun comes back again.

In recent years, people tend to get nervous about offending the religious sensitivity of others. Especially at Christmas. Debates circulate about putting Christmas trees or manger scenes on public land. Some attempt to mitigate the issue by saying “Happy Holidays” rather than “Merry Christmas.”

But I have never met a Jewish person who felt seriously insulted by a holiday greeting; we understand the tsunami of Christmas and go with the flow.

Sure, there are religious decorations among the Santa-and-his-reindeer displays and inflated plastic snowmen. The crèche scenes remind Christians of the real purpose of the holiday. For the rest of us, the lights and decorations are pretty to look at.

My husband and I drive around and look at Christmas lights every year. It doesn’t move us to convert to Christianity or question our Jewish faith. It’s pretty clear to us that Christmas decorations are put out on lawns, strung along gutters, and sometimes placed on rooftops, to decorate the house, not to proselytize or move someone to religious rapture.

The most important Jewish holidays do not have any fictional characters to go along with them like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. They are deeply moving and meaningful to Jews, but there isn’t any bling.

On Yom Kippur, the most solemn day of the year, we fast, not feast. We sit in the synagogue the entire day and break the fast after sundown. It is spiritually rigorous and a time for self-reflection.

Since we don’t have any fun stuff to augment our holy day, we vicariously enjoy Christmas cheer, but it does not undermine our beliefs. After all, Judaism is the foundation of Christianity and both faiths share many values.

In recent years retailers have been catching on and now sell us deprived Jews some goodies for Hanukkah. Although the holiday is not the most important one on the Jewish calendar, some fun traditions have grown up around it and the accouterments are a retailer’s dream.

I have Hanukkah-themed guest towels in my bathroom that are embroidered with dreidels and menorahs. I even succumbed to the charm of a string of Hanukkah lights to hang in the window.

I live far-flung from the areas of California where a Jewish family seems to live on every block, but even the grocery stores out here have small displays with Hanukkah merchandise in an attempt to be respectful or to capitalize on our holiday. It’s quite funny actually: It seems as if no one in the store knows exactly when Hanukkah is, so they put things out during Christmas and hope for the best.

Irving Berlin (a Jew) wrote a beloved Christmas song, “White Christmas.” Mel Tormé (a Jew) wrote the charming lyrics “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire/ Jack Frost nipping at your nose,” from “The Christmas Song.”

And then there are the Christmas albums featuring Barry Manilow and Barbra Streisand, just to mention a couple more great Jewish names. When it comes to popular music, Jews have contributed plenty to the joy of the Christmas season.

I say to Christians and others who celebrate Christmas, don’t worry about your Jewish friends and acquaintances, we are just fine. The overwhelming majority of us will respond with a cheery “Merry Christmas” back at you.

To quote the end of Mr. Tormé’s “The Christmas Song:” “And so I’m offering a simple phrase/ To kids from one to 92/ Although it’s been said many times/ Many ways, Merry Christmas to you.”

Oh, and “Happy Hanukkah,” too.

Kathleen Vallee Stein is a freelance writer.

Remember What It's All About

I just wanted to take a minute to remind people that life is so very fragile. That fact is being brought home to some kids in our area on a daily basis. It's a lesson that is hard to learn because teenagers think they are invincible. Believe me, they are not. Watch the news and see how many YOUNG kids are dying far too early. We aren't supposed to outlive our own children. That's not the way life is meant to work. Yet it seems that today life is cheap on so many levels. It has to end.

With that in mind-it's time for adults to step in and BE ADULTS.
Stop using your kids to fight with your exes, stop putting kids in the middle and stop the relentless self-indulgence and put your kids first. I am tired of hearing stories of mommy's new BMW paired with the stories of how sick kids aren't permitted to get sick because adults make the decision to buy gadgets rather than health insurance. (And yes, this is a true story....and sadly there are many more....) Stop being so self-centered, your kids are suffering.

For all of our arguing and dissension, the words we write or speak to someone today, may be the last words we speak to them at all. Try listening rather than planning the next words that come out of your mouth. Give up the witty repartee and the sarcastic riposte for meaningful conversation. Say things with conviction and follow through with your promises. And pay attention to other people. As my mother told me "you are not the bellybutton of the universe." With that in mind, be kinder, be gentler. Be cognizant that during this time of year, there are people who suffer in silence. A kind word, a giving gesture, a phone call for no reason, could make a difference. While we should consider these things every day, I think our lives have become so frantic with connectivity and gadgets, we sometimes forget what is truly important. Take a moment, reach out and make your little corner of the world just a little bit sweeter.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Oh Christmas Tree!

It's been my job, and my pleasure, to decorate the Christmas tree since I was six or seven. There's something comforting about selecting an ornament, recalling its history and putting it in a place of honor. There have been years that it was painful, such as the year after my Dad's death, and years when it was joyous, such as my childrens' first Christmases. When I was small, during the holiday season, I would lie under the Christmas tree looking up through the branches at the lights and dreaming of the things all children hold dear. I remember the smells of fresh pine and bayberry candles, fudge-the real deal beaten with a wooden spoon, cooling on a plate and beating fondant unto a white mass of gooey sweetness. There have been years of sadness as well, but it's the sadness that carves out space for more joy.

We've made concessions over the years. We used to go to East Texas and cut down trees with the kids, but they have moved away to school and none of us really have time to spare for an entire weekend trip, although I wish we did. We also have a fake tree because frankly, the scenes I have seen of tree fires have scared me to death! One concession I haven't made is on ornaments. Ours is not a designer tree, which chichi matching ornaments and just so garland and white lights. Sorry. Ours is a hodge podge of handmade and collected ornaments-most of which that I can't bear to give away. There are the collected ornaments that my kids have gotten every year. We have alot of cars and puppies and angels on our tree. There are also handmade ornaments from when our kids were small. I just can't give away or toss out the lovingly made wooden clothespin reindeer or the trees trimmed with glitter. And then there's the star. The first Christmas we were married, there just wasn't money for a tree. So we found one on Christmas Eve that a company threw out at the end of the day. We bought cheap ornaments at Pier One and I illustrated a star for the top. We still use the star. It's ragged and torn, but like every other ornament it holds our memories, good, bad and all the areas in between.

So how do you decorate your tree? It's really a very individual task. I use tiny ribbons to tie on the ornaments because I hate those nasty wire hooks. Here are some more questions-
-Star or Angel on top of the tree?
-White lights or multicolored?
-Constantly glowing lights or blinking?
-Different color ornaments or the same?
-Garland or icicles?
-Lights going around the tree or up and down?