Over the last three days, our family has lost a number of things. The first one was Tucker's Advent calendar. I have fond memories of my childhood Advent calendars, which had coloured pictures underneath each square and much finer chocolate than they seem to have now. Somehow or other, I've always managed to give my own children Advent calendars, even though we haven't been doing a very good job of defining Advent because we haven't been going to church.
But Tucker's Advent calendar got lost this year. I have no idea where it is. His sister's calendar is still here...and it seemed ridiculous to insist that she share hers with him, so she's just gone ahead and eaten up all the dates without fanfare. We told Tucker it'd turn up. But it didn't. It'll probably show up in time for Easter, in time to join the chocolate bunnies.
The next thing that went missing was the recipe for Molasses Crinkles. They're going to be part of the three-cookie homebaked spread I bring to Dave's Family's Christmas Dinner tomorrow because I'm in charge of dessert. I didn't realize until now that I must've unconsciously been trying to conjure up my own family Christmas by baking so much, and by baking traditional family recipes, but that's obviously what's going on. I was well-organized with all the ingredients ahead of time (molasses, ginger, cloves) and had carefully taken out the page from the ring-bindered Betty Crocker cookbook, the reissued one Exactly The Same As My Mom's that I recently bought at Restoration Hardware. I thought the Page would be hard to lose...being 8 1/2" x 11" and printed and everything, but it's gone. Missing.
Some of you may know that I have a hard time with losing things. In fact, that problem became the inspiration for a song called "Keys" ("these little losses bring me to my knees"). But today, because it's Christmas Eve, I was determined to not let these losses get to me. I looked for the things awhile, yes, but quickly enough became philosophical and comforting ("It's okay...have this chocolate bar instead"..."Mom? It's Lynn. I need you to dictate the recipe for Molasses Crinkles from your Betty Crocker cookbook.")
I even stayed cheerful when Calla (who just turned 9) told me that she'd lost the envelope that contained $100 in Christmas shopping money. It was a good idea at the time...I thought they'd both like to have a shopping budget (and they were thrilled) but unfortunately we all ran out of time to actually shop and I ended up running around at the last minute and buying appropriate stuff which they could reimburse me for later. But now, the $100 was lost. She felt awful and offered to pay me back. I tried to minimize it...while looking... looking...looking. Finally the envelope was found in a pile of papers waiting for recycling.
Then, as if I hadn't had enough losses already, I decided unwisely to look for something else: a Shared Purpose for our family concerning the meaning of Christmas. Although I was raised in a faith-ful home, my husband is not religious, and I confess that I've deferred to him somewhat over the years, opting to keep the peace (if not the faith) on holidays and Sundays. Most days it's a reasonable compromise...ordinary life is challenging enough without demanding some sort of higher calling for the whole group...and I've found it possible most of the time to find personal meaning through art and other forms of community.
Yet, at Christmas, I look for more. I hope to renew my own spirit and purpose...and I hope to do that in alignment with the people I'm connected to: the people I love. I hope, I guess, that we all define hope and love the same way, whether or not we find that definition in the Christian church or elsewhere. But can we? Does such a light--one that shines on all and can be commonly defined--really exist? (When compromise is so difficult in families, it makes me wonder.) Some would say it doesn't matter...stop looking. Shrug your shoulders and say, just having a week off from work is enough. That's what Christmas is all about. Why complicate a complicated season by talking about spirituality or life purpose? Those things are hard to find. We've almost forgotten what they look like.
As it turned out, we didn't go to church on Christmas Eve...nor did we go on a moonlight walk or take a drive to see the Christmas lights. I made a really nice dinner (how many other women default to this very basic soul-comforter at all times of stress?) and in a few minutes, we will all sit down together to watch "It's A Wonderful Life". Is that what I'm looking for? Is that Christmas...or close enough?
Tonight, that's all there is to find...a shared work of art, a story about one man's search for meaning ( a movie which is starting now, ironically, as I continue to write my personal message on this individualized medium so darkly called a "blog").
The light will return...we will find the Advent calendar in time for Easter. And tomorrow will be Christmas, imperfectly as always.
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