My Epiphany

As I sit here in the quiet glow of those days after Christmas...those days when the hustle bustle is over and the peace and  joy of what just happened is more evident than any of those days leading up to it...I ponder the meaning of it all.

I always want to make Advent meaningful and somehow the commercialism and the hustle bustle seem to get in the way.  From the decorating that begins the day after Thanksgiving to the cards that I want to get out the beginning of December, that never seem to get out until a few days before Christmas.  From the gift selections to the baking and back again, to the gift selections that don't seem quite right and need to be returned and another purchased.  From the laundry and cleaning that still need to be done during this time to the parties to prepare for or go to.  And, don't forget the wrapping of those gifts and other odds and ends that find their way into the Christmas mix. Somehow, all of these things get in the way of "preparing the way" for Christmas.

It is the quiet days after Christmas that fill me with the "presence" of the infant Jesus and the man Jesus, of long ago. The Christmas Story is a beautiful one; one of hope and promise.  Yet, it is the Jesus that walked this earth, teaching us about peace, hope, joy, compassion, forgiveness, equality, inclusiveness, justice and love, that I really want to focus on and follow. So, maybe I am not so far off in waiting until the "dust settles", to allow it all to sink deep into my being.  To feel His breath within me, as I breathe.  There is something powerful about this quiet, that waits for the world to be quiet before it revels itself.  Maybe that is why the Wise Men waited until Epiphany to go and adore Him by bringing gifts.   Maybe we have it backwards.  Maybe we should do the commercial Christmas that seems to have overtaken our modern world, and then really celebrate with the Wise Men on Epiphany.  I think I will make Epiphany my new day to celebrate and adore Him.  I am glad it is on a Sunday this year and will be celebrated within the Mass.

 Epiphany means to have an "enlightened realization, allowing something to be understood from a new and deeper perspective".  I like this definition. I like the idea that maybe I have understood Christmas from a new and deeper perspective this year.  May Jesus revel himself to you this year in a new and deeper way. 

'Tis The Season for Making Memories

I don't think there is a time of the year that I treasure more than Christmas.  It is filled with memory making opportunities are every turn.

When Ron and I got married, we packed our family traditions and brought them with us.  Of course, there was some compromising to be done.  I opened my presents at Midnight on Christmas Eve.  To him, that was totally wrong.  Christmas morning was the time to open presents.  So, we compromised. We open one small gift, on Christmas Eve and our children were allowed to do the same. With grand-children, they are given that opportunity too.  But, just one.

Another tradition was going to Mass. Now that I was an official Catholic, going to Mass Christmas Eve seemed like the thing to do.  Plus, in those early years, we would go "home" on Christmas Day, so this allowed us time for Mass and time to make the trip home in the morning. How we loved walking from our little apartment to our church that was...probably, 6-7 large city blocks away.  I remember so clearly, being bundled up with heavy winter coats, scarves, gloves, hats and anything else that might keep us warm.  I remember, with a smile on my face, how we would stop on every man hole cover along the way and feel the warmth of the steam rising from them and then hurry along our way.  It was so very special, walking home along the same path and knowing we were creating our family traditions.

Through the years, that tradition changed as children came along.  Going to Mass is one of those traditions that will always remain, no matter where or how our family changes.  From going to Midnight Mass as newly married, to Christmas morning with small children, to Midnight Mass with teenagers and young adults to the Children's Mass at 4:00 PM with grand-children.  Whether it is watching a toddler walk down the aisle, all decked out in a red sequined hat and scarf to the front row or watching a jet-lagged six year old sleep through it all.  Whether it is watching an infant asleep in his carrier on his first Christmas Eve or watching him toddle up the aisle this year.  No matter when we go, it is where our Christmas is rooted.  In the love and hope and peace of that first Christmas.

A big tradition we have is one I brought into our family.  The only one I treasured as a child.  One that made me feel very special.  My family would place my baby rattle on our tree, as the very first ornament to go on.  We brought that into our family and as each child left home, got married and started their own traditions, their baby rattle went with them.  Ron was the only one who didn't have one over the years and one year Tara surprised him with his very own.  It is easy to see it is not of the 1943 circa, but it is very special to him.  Needless to say, there were a few tears shed that year.

Other traditions that we have always had and have remained, are our Advent Wreath and candles.  Each child would have their chance to light the candles.  It was a big deal in our house when they were growing up.  It has remained so for Ron and I.  We still light the candles, even if it is just the two of us.  Another, is the Nativity.  Our first one, was a small music box with just three angels and the baby Jesus.  We bought it at Kaufmann's Department Store in downtown Pittsburgh.  It still sits on a shelf, albeit with one angel's head glued and another angel's wing missing.  Our next one was one we made in a ceramic class.  One year Ron built a fairly large stable for us, out of weathered oak from my parent's garage.  It wasn't large enough to hold the 3 pieces we had made in that ceramic class, so we made a smaller set, that grew to include shepherds, wise men, angels and animals.  That is the one that was the "center piece".  However, many others have followed and you can find one in almost every room of our house.  Many are from countries where Tara has lived.

Over the years, coming home from Mass has changed, but since the kids have been adults, creating their own traditions, we come home to share a simple meal and sit around the tree with a warm fire in the fireplace.  This year, a toddler will open his first gift on Christmas Eve at Nana and Granda's.  The best part of a child joining in, is that some traditions will remain and others will change.  Change is good.  Traditions that remain are good.  It is all good and all building memories.

To memories that remain and memories that grow, and those that change
.

Pumpkin Patch

Of course, we know that Augie is far to young to even know what a  pumpkin is and we also know that taking him to the "pumpkin patch" is for us, more than him.  But golly, it is fun anyway and we will have lots of pictures and stories to tell him about our trip the other day.  We are creating memories, and isn't that really what all these little adventures are about?

He looks like he is definitely on the hunt for that perfect pumpkin.

And Nana is looking for that perfect photo op without injuring the poor child. Note that she is hanging onto his little butt.

This one might work Nana.

Nah, let's keep looking.

I think I found the perfect one Nana and I can carry it all by myself.  Yep, this one is perfect.  Do you think we can come back here in December and see what they have?  

It was a fun afternoon, making memories, filling our hearts with the wonder of a small child.  

The Artist

Sojo is a very unique little girl  She never ceases to amaze me with her creativity and little mind that weaves in   and out of being sporty with her soccer and baseball and on to being creative with art and simply having fun with games on her IPad or playing with her friends.

Last summer, we gave her a book titled "My Little Orsay".  It is a book geared to children her age and takes several pieces of art, in which the goal is to go to the Musee d'Orsay in Paris and find these pieces.  And that we did.  It was so much fun to see this Musee in a much different way than we did some 17 or so years ago when we first visited it.  We stood in line with the knowledge that we would be seeing it through Sojo's eyes.  So, we each set out to find the pieces of art.  The one I found was the "red dog" by Paul Gauguin.  It is actually titled, Arearea,   was painted in 1891 in Tahiti and I guess not well received. We certainly liked it though.   It is said that it represents where dream and reality coexist.  I think that is a good way to express oneself through art.

As Sojo would walk from room to room with us finding each piece along the way, she would often find a chair and sit down; taking out her sketch pad and doing some drawing of her own.

  

    

The finished product...a family portrait of us all in front of the Eiffel Tower.  Note the bird...which was in the original photo that she used as her muse. 

It was one of those days that left an imprint on my heart that will forever remain and bless me at every thought it brings.  

We Will Always Have Paris

Our week in Paris with the "E" family sure flew by.  It almost seemed the arrived and left on the same day.  But, my oh my, we had a grand time.

Sometimes, I had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn't all a dream.  When Tara was born almost 45 years ago, I certainly never thought about spending a week with her and her family in Paris.  My greatest dream for her was to simply be a healthy and happy little girl.  To grow up in a happy and healthy home filled with the kind of love that would nurture her and provide her with the tools she would need to grow into a happy and healthy woman.  I looked at that sweet baby girl and thought about all the opportunities she would have to grow up to be anything she wanted to be.  Unlike my life, being told I could or could not do something because I was a "girl".  I knew this little girl would never be told that.  She might not be able to do something for other reasons, but NEVER would being a female keep her from anything.  My prayer, hope, dream was, that being a female would only open more doors for her.  

And so, she did.  She has been able to follow her dreams and has allowed them to take her far beyond anything I ever dreamed of.  She has traveled to more cities, countries and continents than I ever dreamed she would.  I simply wanted her to get an education and have a career that supported her dreams and provided for her in an adequate fashion financially.  When she went off to Ecuador over 20 years ago, I remember her saying to me, "Mom, don't worry, I am going for one year, two at the most".  I have watched her disappear through departure gates and security gates and on this trip,I watched her and her husband and daughter walk away from me down a narrow Paris street in the early morning golden glow of the street lights.  It looked like something out of a movie.  They had planned to walk to St. Germain de Pres and catch a taxi to the airport, but a taxi came by on Rue du Dragon and stopped.  When I saw them begin to put their suitcases into the taxi, I couldn't restrain myself.  I needed one last hug this time.  I couldn't just watch them disappear again without another hug.  As I began to run and at my age, that can be a challenge, but I felt an energy that I didn't know I had.  Suddenly, I see them all in the taxi but Dale and I called out to him to wait.  I sprinted those last few steps and leaned into the taxi to give my little girl and her little girl one last hug.  Tears are filling my eyes as I write.  Will I ever get used to saying goodbye?  I don't think so.  I am so blessed.  I have a daughter who wants to be with me and her father.  She wants to share her daughter and husband with us.  She wants to share as much time as she can with us.  It isn't always easy, but she finds a way.  Why can't I just let go of the emptiness I feel when she leaves?  It is a challenge, but I have made progress over the years.  I no longer get moody the day before she leaves.  I cherish the moments we have and don't waste time on that loss I feel.  I look forward to planning the next time we will all be together.

And so, the empty and hollow feeling comes and goes.  I can't stop it.  But, I can work with it and not allow it to control how we roll with it.  We make the most of our times together and we are so blessed by it.  And goodness gracious, who can complain about trips to places like Paris to meet and explore the streets, museums, metros, gardens, monuments, bakeries and cafes?  Whenever I feel blue and whenever we talk about it or whenever we think about our times together, our new phrase to one another is, "we will always have Paris".  Yes, my sweet and beautiful daughter, "we will always have Paris" and all the other ordinary moments of life.  We are blessed beyond measure.

Paris...Through The Eyes of a Child

We all were in agreement that we had to plan this trip around Sojo's likes and dislikes and interests.  We  had been here before, so anything we saw or did, was simply icing on the cake to us.  And so it was, seeing Paris through the eyes of Sojo.

The "E" family arrived around 10:30 am from an overnight flight from Bahrain.  They pretty much threw their bags in the bedroom and off we went.  No time to dilly dally.  The first day, we just scoped out the area, finding the local bakery, Carrefour (grocery store where we could get cheese and wine), the Metro, etc. The area of Rue du Dragon was perfect, just one half block from St. Germain des Pres. This brought the Metro close, as well as Cafes and Brasseries close by; like Brasserie Lipp, Cafe Flores and Les Deux Magots, where literary giants of the world hung out after WWII. We didn't eat at any of the ones mentioned.  They were too crowded.  We did however got to Cafe Louise, which was right beside Brasserie Lipp and quite good.  Tara and Dale snuck away a couple of times for a glass of wine and dessert, listening to some jazz as well. 

Favorite Sight:  the Eiffel Tower.  It was quite a cool day and very cloudy, even a bit of drizzle.  It didn't dampen our enthusiasm, though we might have climbed up it if it had been warmer.  The carousel wasn't even running that day because of the damp chill in the air.  Sojo loved it and just seeing it was probably just enough for her.  She drew a beautiful picture of all of us in front of it.  She even included the pigeon who photo bombed our actual photograph of the family. 

Favorite Mode of Transportation:  Probably, the Metro...quick, easy, cheap and always a surprise.

Favorite Bookstore(and there are many):  Shakespeare & Company.  

Most Unusual Sightings:

Favorite Musee: the Musee d'Orsay.  This was a must visit for the trip.  We had given Sojo a book during the summer to prepare her for the trip.  She is so much the artist, that we thought the book was a perfect way to introduce her to Paris Museums.  We personally, from our experience here, thought that the Louvre was a bit over the top...too big, too busy, too many people everywhere.  Maybe when she comes back to Paris.  We had been to the M'O and thought it perfect for everyone from 7-70.  She loved it.  She brought her book called "My Little Orsay" which highlighted several pieces.  We walked around and found several of them.  She sat a couple of times drawing her impressions.  And when she was ready, we left.  Just enough for everyone. 

Favorite Jardin/Park:  jardin l'acclimation.   This particular garden is technically outside Paris; on the fringes.  Friends that Tara and Dale worked with in Shanghai, now work in Paris.  He is the Head Master/Principal at a school and she is a stay at home Mom.  They have a daughter who is Sojo's age and the girls played together in Shanghai as toddlers.  It was a super fun day for Sojo in the jardin/park, playing on the playgrounds, riding rides, seeing farm animals and just doing what kids do...run, jump, laugh and giggle.

Favorite Unusual Sighting:  Zombies on the Metro.  Yep, you heard it right. Zombies on the Metro.

Favorite foods:  Bread, cheese, wine, macarons, Croque Monsieur (a delightful open faced sandwich...rustic bread, a slice of ham, a slice of cheese and then toasted under a broiler).

Favorite  cafe:  Cesar Paris Ristoranti Italian .  The best pizza and bruschetta in the world. In the world.

We did it all, "just like Bogie and Bacall".  A cruise on the River Seine, the largest flea market in Europe, figuring out the Metro system and squeezing in at the last minute, miles of walking, lighting candles in Cathedrals, Basilicas and Churches on corners, watching Mimes on Montmartre, Shakespeare and Company Bookstore and visiting another playground in Luxembourg Gardens. 

We put over 10,000 steps on daily and Sojo was a trooper.  Rarely, did she complain and only once or twice did she asked to be carried.  She slept through a couple of lunches and the River Seine cruise.  It was a lot of fun seeing Paris with a child of seven.  I can't think of a better way to do it.

I Love Paris in the Springtime...I Love Paris in the Fall

Having been here in the spring and now the fall, I can honestly say that.  However, this fall, is a wee bit cooler than I would like.  The rain is intermittent and seems only drizzly, but it does make for a bit of a challenge for pictures and comfort.  Every time we see the sun peek through and a window of blue appears, I want to shout out for joy. 

I don't know what it is about Paris that attracts me.  Much of it is the history.  I have seen only one semi-modern building that seemed so out of place.  You look at the height and the materials used and you are in awe at it all.  We saw one building with scaffolding and you could see they were not changing it, but restoring it.  That is one of the many things I love about this city.  They cherish their history and preserve it.  And those of us that have the opportunity to see it all, are so blessed. 

Just down the street; maybe 3 doors down, is a plaque that made us realize just how blessed we are to be here and to notice things and people who were here before us.  Just as we were setting out that first day, Dale and I were chatting about our love of Les Miserables and Tara looks up and sees this sign.  

Just what are the chances of something like that?  Victor Hugo, the author of Les Miserables lived here.  He didn't write it until 1862, but I am sure he was thinking about it when he was living on this street.  I know that I have literary thoughts running through my head right now.  Blessed?  We sure are.