I see how I wrote a report for Christmas 2017. A sort of Christmas letter.
It seems a good time to add an update. Overdue even, perhaps.
Jan & I continue to live in Long Beach, California. Christmas Eve began with a heavy rain storm. Something good considering we’ve been in drought conditions long enough to begin to think this is more likely climate change. And for us that’s going to be a strong flirtation with desertification. Later in the day our drive across the Los Angeles metroplex to mom’s in Tujunga was as beautiful as beautiful can be. Piled clouds in the sky, the brightness playing with shadows, the air crystal clear. Snow atop the San Gabriels.
At mom’s we prepped dinner for the vegan part of the family. This is the first time circumstances have forced the family gathering into groups. We had out of state family pass through. That led to a restaurant dinner. A good little family run Mexican restaurant is our local go to for such things. Inexpensive and good. (Don’t get me started on their corn tortillas. Proof there is goodness in this world.) So, just getting together was all the work required. Although these days that turns out to be a thing, as well.
Jan & I have long claimed the cooking responsibilities. With three gatherings this Christmas season, not having to cook for one, was good. For vegan night we worked from a NYTimes recipe for mushroom Wellington. (Technically vegetarian, but being careful about the puff pastry and substituting vegan margarine for the butter makes it vegan) Jan & I did a practice run some weeks ago and knew we had a winner. Jan outdid herself with a vegan version of a carrot cake. The frosting made with a cashew base was sinfully rich and tasty. And with five of us (an old family friend had been invited, as well, but bowed out for a better offer), we actually all got to visit together.
Today, Christmas Day, we’ll be hosting another batch of the family. And for the first time in years not trying to balance the needs of people who’ve forsworn all animal foods and those who require blood with every meal. We’re going simple tonight. There’ll be a meat pie (I found on the inter webs that somewhere, perhaps French Canada, meat pies are a Christmas Eve thing), and a great looking chicken pie from CostCo. Feeling guilty about not working hard enough on the entree, we’re making up by having too many side dishes. And for desert the other half of that carrot cake.
My back has been wonky all week, so I was anxious. But, taking judicious breaks seemed to keep the monster at bay. So far, anyway.
And. Here I am now, in the earlier morning. Sipping coffee, checking emails, and, well, this.
Jan and I won’t be exchanging gifts. For the first time in our marriage (it will be 40 years this coming June), we’ve decided it’s become impossible. Instead family stuff. Instead we ordered ourselves a fancy Waterpik water flosser. The truth be told I got sort of cold feet last week and responded to a couple of ads popping up on Facebook and purchased a couple of noshes. However, none showed up. So, while there will be a small trail of little nothings over the next week or two, basically our new plan has held.
It feels okay. I’m glad to note the day. I’m glad its with food and family. And most of all with Jan. It really is enough.
We’re in the midst of a new outbreak of Covid. We’re looking at civil unrest that is going to sorely test our republic, as well as republics around the globe in the next few years. We do seem to be turning toward right wing authoritarianisms, or at least seriously flirting with the possibilities. Climate change going into high gear and governments unable, unwilling to address the coming catastrophes. The poor continue getting poorer. And the rich, well, I guess its good that someone is doing just fine…
That does test the “enough” of our small lives here in the Los Angeles basin two decades into the third millennium of our common era.
But, as I believe I recalled in 2017, the Buddha was right. And still is. All things made of parts come apart. So, always, always things are fragile. It might feel a bit easier if Jan & I weren’t in our 70s. The the idea of versatility and the ability to meet challenges is itself challenged by our aging bodies.
Given the givens. Given the luck of several draws. Given the fact everything dies.
Looking at my aging hands as I type and the little pangs of arthritis. Sitting next to Jan in our made for us bedroom at mom’s Tujunga house, our cat sitting between Jan & me, engaging in a serious cleaning of some parts of her body. My morning coffee almost done.
In this moment, at least in our tiny corner, a sweet Christmas morning, where we really have enough.
The good folk at the First Unitarian Church of Los Angeles offer me their pulpit once a month, twice this month. Tomorrow I’ll reflect a bit more on the great turning that we are offered with the celebration of Christmas. The work of Christmas, if you will.
But for now. In the quiet morning, feeling deeply that sense of enough. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Right now. Right now, just this…
Fond wishes for the world. And a deep desire everyone can find that enough, as well…
Merry Christmas.
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