Oh Christmas tree

We're not really big on tradition in my family. As my girls were growing up, I thought it was better to teach them to follow a path of creativity and ingenuity as opposed to doing things the way they'd always been done. One etched-in-stone tradition however, has been the decorating of the Christmas tree.

Every year, I have given each daughter an ornament to commemorate an event or interest that has occurred during the past 12 months. Over the years, starting with their "Baby's First Christmas" they've amassed a collection of ornaments celebrating the moments of their lives--the school sports, the hobbies in which they've dabbled, their passions, the life passages they've navigated. These ornaments are always presented with much laughter and joy on tree-decorating day, and after the new additions are placed on the tree, we proceed to unwrap all of their predecessors, thoughtfully telling the story of the history of each ornament as it, too is given a place of honor amid the branches. I have several pieces that have been passed down to me by my mother and these are always the nearest and dearest to my own heart, as they recall the Christmases of my childhood spent in our knotty-pined basement rec room complete with a fresh Christmas tree laden with a ton of tinsel and those humongous primary-colored tree lights that one simply doesn’t see anymore. (Do they still make them--along with the shiny crescent-shaped cardboard mirrors that were inserted behind them to further intensify the garish illumination?)

Admittedly, some of the traditions have grown downright obnoxious over the years. My girls, who are in their 20s never fail to use this time to extol the beauty of the ornaments they made me in the pre- and elementary-school years. There is the wax-paper Christmas tree handmade by Bethany and the lid to the orange juice can with the star carefully punched out by Alyssa. There are some jumbled tangles made of yarn that I find unrecognizable, yet the girls insist that I display them in a prominent position year after year. There is the six-ball set that has all the verses to The Night Before Christmas etched on them. Alyssa insists on reading them aloud--in order--much to the chagrin of her more pragmatic sister who every year whines, "Moooooommmmmm, can't you just make her shut up and put them on the tree?" (I can't.)

Since I've switched to an artificial tree (sold out, Alyssa would say), this annual ritual has taken place on the Friday after Thanksgiving. Some families shop; we shun that process entirely and converge upon my living room, scarf down a sandwich of turkey leftovers and then begin dragging box after box of Christmas décor up from the basement. This process has gotten less arduous with each passing year, especially since I've given many of my holiday decorations to the girls for display in their homes. But the tree has always been sacrosanct.

This past Friday-after-Thanksgiving we gathered together for the usual routine and actually got the tree up in record time. It's taken us 20 years to perfect the technique, but we have it down to a science. I can even predict the exact moment when the good-natured bantering will begin. Although Alyssa has been away at college for four years, this is the first year her ornaments will adorn her own tree in her first "real" apartment. We carefully set aside the swimmer, the snowwoman proclaiming "born to shop," and the goofy frog from her brief amphibious phase. The loss of the 20-plus ornaments barely made a dent in the 10-foot tree, for collecting ornaments has been a hobby of mine for years. Up went the treasured mementos of vacations, houses we've lived in, family memories and friends we don't get to see enough. They were all there-- the counted-cross stitch ornaments that my sister made for me on my first married Christmas, the teapot commemorating my love for the beverage, the personalized baby booties crocheted by my mother to mark the birth of each of her granddaughters, the beaded candy canes I made myself, the gold-plated aspen leaf purchased for my first Christmas in Colorado. All of them telling a story; the tapestry of my life.

I have another Christmastime tradition that is mine alone. After the girls leave, I sit down to admire our handiwork and reflect on each ornament--remembering fondly the events that triggered them, the people who gave them to me or the people I was with when I purchased them. Each year, I reminisce about the new people in my life--the ones whom I'd not yet met when I gazed upon my tree last year. Sometimes I've bid a silent farewell to people who are no longer part of my world for one reason or another. Every year, I think about how far I've come and wonder what new adventures will come my way between now and the next Christmas.

This year, when I sat down for my annual private ritual, I expected to be saddened by the loss of Alyssa's ornaments from the tree, yet I wasn't. She has her own grown-up life now, as does her sister, and I enjoy being mother to adult daughters. My hands-on job with them is done and I am at peace with my two exquisite creations. All is as it should be. I stared at my beautiful tree and looked over each ornament. And felt…pleasantly unattached. With an absolute certainty that sprang from deep within the core of me, I was instantly convinced that this is my last year for such a tree. It's time. My beautiful tree represents my past--not my present or my future. And while I treasure my past, I no longer need an annual testimony to it, nor do I need physical objects to treasure the memory of the blessings I've received. My past is a part of who I am and as the bible says about Mary, these are things that I "treasure in my heart."

When I explained my thoughts to Jeremy later that evening, he totally understood. (Then again, he's Jewish and refers to our tree as a Hanukah bush.). "It's not who you are anymore. You're done," he empathized and I agreed. With total peace and clarity, I emailed the girls and set up a date after Christmas for them to come over and select the ornaments they each want for their family trees. The rest I will donate, confident that they will bring joy to whomever hangs them on their tree in the future. I am thrilled with my decision. Some changes in life come with intense struggle and pain. This one came easily and without resistance, and I welcome it with open arms. Perhaps I will put up a smaller tree next year, maybe decorate it with a theme--Victorian to match my house, or maybe simply elegant silver balls and white lights--there won't be a yarn ornament in sight.

Either way, the possibilities are endless, and that's what life is supposed to be all about.

Memorializing Deceased Family Members in Your Ceremony

Death is no more than passing from one room into another.
Helen Keller

Your wedding day can be a bittersweet celebration if you've lost a parent or other close family member. While on the one hand, you're thrilled to be proclaiming your love and commitment before your family and friends, you can't help but be saddened that it's not your father's arm upon which you'll be walking down the aisle or that the place of honor for the groom's mother is conspicuously vacant.

Whether your family member has recently passed away or it has been many years, the void is felt on this day more so than any other. How do you honor these family members while balancing the joy of your wedding celebration? Here are some tips on how to incorporate the memory of your loved ones without turning your wedding ceremony into a funereal experience.

Be sure to discuss your wishes with three very important people--your fiancé(e), any surviving spouses of the deceased, and your officiant. You will want to let your fiancé(e) know to what depth you want your deceased family member mentioned in the ceremony. Be sure you are both on the same page in your comfort level with this. Bear in mind that this is also a difficult time for the surviving spouse. You'll want to ascertain their comfort level with whatever honorarium you elect to incorporate. And lastly, use your officiant as a resource. He or she has done this a time or two and can make suggestions as to how to tactfully memorialize your loved one. Your officiant should also be alerted to the fact that the wedding day will be a difficult time for certain family members and he or she can assist by extending comfort and support where needed.

It might be easier for you to honor your loved one at the rehearsal dinner than on the day of the wedding itself. Since it is customary for the bride and groom to toast their parents at this dinner, it would be a natural extension to say a few words in tribute to your deceased family member. The rehearsal dinner will have less people than the wedding so it might increase your comfort level in speaking about such an emotional occurrence. Also, it is likely that your closest friends and family will be in attendance at the rehearsal dinner, making an emotionally intimate moment all the more meaningful.

If you'd rather include a memorial on the wedding day itself, consider the following options.

*Place some words of tribute into your program.
*Have an empty chair in remembrance of your family member. The bride or groom may place a rose on the chair as they pass, in silent tribute.
*In response to the question, "Who gives Bride in marriage?" the response might be, "In memory of her mother (father), I do."
*The bride might want to carry a memento of her loved one--a handkerchief, a piece of jewelry, or a small photography tucked into her bouquet.
*After welcoming the guests, your officiant may add words saying, "Before we begin our celebration today, Bride and Groom would like us all to take a moment to remember those family members who can be with them today solely in spirit, especially (insert names).
*Include a photo of the deceased family member on the altar or unity candle table.
*Have a memorial candle which the bride or groom (or both) will light at the start of the ceremony.
*Compile a floral centerpiece. Have a vase on the altar, or at the back of the ceremony site. Give each guest a flower as they enter and have them place it in the vase. During the ceremony, one last flower can be placed in the vase in memory of the deceased family member. As a final symbolic gesture, the bride and groom can each insert a red rose into the center of the arrangement, signifying them being surrounded by the love and support of their family and friends. The arrangement can be used to decorate the head table or in another location at the reception.
*Have a song or reading at the ceremony and dedicate it to your deceased love one.
*At the reception, if the deceased was either the groom's mother or the bride's father, the bride or groom can dance the "parent's dance" with another partner, but dedicate that special dance in memory of their parent.
*If you have a blessing said prior to the meal, the minister can incorporate a few words about the deceased.

However you decide to memorialize your loved one, remember that it is an intensely personal decision and there is no right or wrong way. What matters is your comfort level. Expect that your wedding day will be a roller coaster of emotions (it is for everyone, regardless of whether or not they've experienced the death of a family member).and be gentle with yourself and each other. And remember that you and your new spouse will have a very special guardian angel looking over for you as you enter your married life together.

Go Ahead and Laugh!

Laughter is a tranquilizer with no side effects.

Arnold H. Glasow

Humor can get us through some very sticky moments. Picture the following scenario: The beautiful bride descending the staircase with her beaming father to the hushed awe of her guests. Such a poignant moment. She's so elegant, so poised, so radiant …until her heel catches on the step and she tumbles, landing on her backside and unceremoniously bumping down several steps with all the grace of the proverbial bull--and a drunken one at that--in a china shop.

There is a massive intake of breath from the crowd. Dad hovers protectively, assessing for broken bones. The string quartet keeps playing, uncertain of what else to do. The groom instinctively begins to walk toward his blushing (more like crimson) bride. Seconds later, however, the bride has risen to her feet, scanned the crowd and upon settling her gaze on her distraught husband to be, looks him straight in the eye and says "No, honey, I'm not chewing gum!"

The crowd bursts into uproarious laughter and many begin to applaud. Relieved, the groom returns to his spot at the front. Dad extends his arm and with a flourish, the bride tucks her hand into its protective crook and continues down the staircase. She's hardly missed a beat. Now, this is a gal with class! Once again, humor has saved the day.

In days past, the idea of incorporating humor into a marriage ceremony was considered a sacrilege. Most weddings were held in churches or the judge's chambers--neither of which is generally considered a place of fun. The closest thing to humor might have been a grin as the flower girl made her halting way down the aisle, or a stifled giggle by the cousins as Uncle Harry dozed off in the back pew. Weddings were more about ritual than celebration and there was no tolerance for silliness. Marriage was serious business! Perhaps a guffaw or two could be permissible at the reception, but at the ceremony? Never!

Thank heavens those days are past and couples now have options to customize every facet of their ceremony to reflect their personalities. And since most of us thrive on humor, there's no reason to leave it out of the ceremony. Now, I'm not talking about turning your officiant into a stand-up comedian; we certainly don't want to detract from the significance of this special day. I am talking about infusing your ceremony with some lightness and playfulness that will leave you relaxed, your guests energized and conclude with you feeling, "Wow! That was really "us!"

It's difficult to script humor. More often than not, the opportunities simply present themselves (although hopefully not the one described above). An experienced and creative officiant will always be on the alert for such opportunities and should incorporate them into the ceremony. I always arrive for the wedding 20-30 minutes early so that I can spend a few minutes mingling with guests. What they don't realize is that I am shamefacedly eavesdropping for little tidbits of information that I can share in the ceremony (without embarrassing anyone). Even though I've gotten to know the bride and groom over the months of their wedding planning, I generally obtain my best material from the guests.

You can assist your officiant by telling him or her some amusing stories about your courtship. Did he propose in a creative way? Does she have an unusual pet peeve? How did you meet? What makes you laugh together? What passions do you share? How did that first meeting with her parents go? There are many possibilities if you stop to think about it.

If your officiant just doesn't get it, then there are other ways you can incorporate humor (starting by firing your officiant, but that's another article). Here are ideas that I've seen other couples work into their ceremony with great success.

Have each member of the bridal party be introduced as they start down the aisle. You can have an announcer say something like, "introducing Jason, the best friend and college roommate of the groom. Jason has known Groom for 10 years and is eternally grateful to Bride for taming Groom's wild side and helping him calm down. Without her, Groom never would have passed Western Civ." This not only allows for a fun opening, but it gives the guests some knowledge of just who your bridal party members are. You can end with the bride by saying, "And now, please stand for our bride, introduced for the last time as Ms. (First name) (Maiden name).

Consider a funny reading as opposed (or in addition) to a Biblical or serious one. Dr. Seuss's "Oh the Places You'll Go" is fun and appropriate for a wedding.

Include an amusing line in your vows. There's nothing wrong with promising to love him unconditionally, to vow to comfort him when his team loses and drink beer with him when they win. From his end, he can vow to spend the rest of his days making her happy and promise to always put the seat down, replace the toilet tissue roll and bring her flowers once per month. Although I'd refrain from using a vow that is being circulated on the internet, "May all of our ups and downs come only in the bedroom." Try that one in front of 150 relatives and the loud thump you hear will be both of your mothers hitting the ground in simultaneous dead faints.

If amusing vows aren't your thing, then you might want to adapt a blessing that your officiant or a family can read that includes a funny line. Consider something like this for a couple of diehard sports fans:

May your joys be as bright as the morning,your years of happiness as numerous as the stars in the heavens,and your troubles but shadows that fade in the sunlight of love.
And may the only time your home be divided be when the Red Sox and the Rockies play in the World Series. (Insert a line to suit your own situation.)

Think about adding some of the following amusing quotes on love and marriage:

"Love is like war: Easy to begin but hard to end." - Anonymous
"Marriage is an alliance entered into by a man who can't sleep with the window shut, and a woman who can't sleep with the window open." George Bernard Shaw
"Three things can't be hidden: coughing, poverty, and love." - Yiddish proverb"No man is truly married until he understands every word his wife is NOT saying." - Unknown "A happy home is one in which each spouse grants the possibility that the other may be right, though neither believes it." - Don Fraser
"Love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity." George Bernard Shaw
"Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine." Lord Byron
"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." Robert Frost
And my personal favorite:
"Love is much nicer to be in than an automobile accident, a tight girdle, a higher tax bracket or a holding pattern over Philadelphia." Judith Viorst

However you decide to incorporate it, humor can be an integral part of your wedding ceremony. Make it fun, make it light, make it about who you are as a couple. Just don't make it about a priest, a rabbi and a minister going into a bar!

I'm finally the reward!

The reason grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is that they have a common enemy.

Sam Levenson

Having grandchildren rocks. They're always glad to see you. They give you great hugs and they happily go home to Mom and Dad when you're too tired to play with them anymore. Yes, I thought I was in Grammy (like the award!) Nirvana with just those aspects alone. But, last week, I discovered an even finer perk of Grandmotherhood.

I became the reward!

Almost-three-year-old Kaydi was scheduled for a Grammy (like the award!) playdate and I had some fine activities in the works. The plan was for me to pick Kaydi up from preschool at 2:30 sharp and then party the night away (although quite honestly, she's way more of a party girl than I am). However, I received an early morning phone call from my daughter Bethany who relayed in a very fed-up voice, that Kaydi had pitched a royal fit that morning, refusing to get dressed, throwing her shoes, etc. (You know--the histrionics that we Grandmothers consider our cosmic revenge against our daughters who put us through the angst-filled teen years!)

Apparently there was no stopping the fit, (I must digress here to point out that Kaydi raises fit-throwing to an art form!) so after an hour or so of this nonsense, Mom and Dad finally administered the one punishment sure to have an impact. They took away the Grammy visit! This of course generated more fit-pitching, but Beth and Jason held firm and the snivelling Kaydi was unceremoniously dropped off at school with admonishments that Grammy (like the award!) would not be there to rescue her come 2:30. Bummer.

Granted, I was disappointed by the punishment, but understanding of its need. This turned to glee when the 180 degree nature of this event registered in my brain. How the tides have turned! I remember when my kids were being disciplined as children, that I was the punishment! Staying at home being grounded with Mom hanging around the house was usually ample punishment to deflect most rule infractions. Ewww...a fate worse than death!

But now....I am the reward. I'm what gets taken away when the child misbehaves. I am the good thing, the whipped cream on top of the hot chocolate, the day at the amusement park, the PRIZE!!!!

Heh...heh...heh....having grandchildren is so good for the ego!

P.S. For those of you dying to know the outcome, Kaydi woke up the next day talking about how she was being very careful "not to throw a fit" (her words) to insure a visit to Grammy's (like the award!) house later that day. Her objective was accomplshed and a fun time was had by all.

Thank you, thank you

Gratitude helps you to grow and expand; gratitude brings joy and laughter into your life and into the lives of all those around you.

Eileen Caddy

It's Monday morning and that means its time to write my thank-you notes to all the couples I've married over the past week. It's one of my favorite parts of the week. I think that showing appreciation is as gratifying to the one who gives it as it is to the one who receives it. I craft every hand-written note with care, remembering each couple's particular ceremony--the nuances and the highlights that made their public expression of love memorable and unique. Then I thank them for the honor of performing their ceremony. As I affix the stamps onto the envelopes, I sometimes feel a twinge of sadness that this is most likely the last contact I will have with these couples. It's a momentary flash, however, for I know my life has been enriched for having known them--if only for a few months.

My mother was big on having us write thank-yous. Every January it was an arduous task to sit down and write the many thank-yous to the aunts and uncles who'd remembered me at Christmastime. When it came my time to be a mom, I put my daughters through the same drill. I've not given it much thought until recently, but I am now seeing the importance of keeping gratitude front and center in my life. I find myself being grateful for the oddest things--things I've taken for granted in the past. Thinks like mangoes and a pillow that your head fits into just perfectly and a man in my life who does the dishes without being asked, and a car that starts up in cold weather and the potential for joy inherent in every day. And, although I know its a terrible cliche and I'm sounding like a Geritol commercial--as I grow older, each and every day, I am grateful for my health.

If you'd like to inject more gratitude into your life, it's pretty simple. just notice. Write it down in a journal, tick them off in your head before you go to sleep. Or you can do as my friend Barbara does and keep a stack of blank thank you notes in your purse or car and write them out on the spot to folks who give you excellent customer service or just make your day in some way. Whatever it takes--just plan to be surprised at how infectious gratitude can be. You'll notice more and more things to appreciate.

If you need help from an outside source, visit Go Gratitude for ideas and inspiration. Among other things, they promote the value of having a grateful heart as helping you to feel better instantly, enjoy supportive and synergistic exciting relationships, increase your prosperity and abundance, experience vibrant health, know peace of mind, supercharge your creative juices, magnetize the realization of your dreams and goals, and make a profound difference in the lives of many people.

Wowza! And all for free!

Seeing

It is the gift of seeing the life around them clearly and vividly, as something that is exciting in its own right. It is an innate gift, varying in intensity with the individual's temperament and environment.

Bill Brandt

I have a line in one set of my opening words that goes like this: "When we love, we see things other people do not see. We see beneath the surface, to the qualities which make our beloved special and unique. To see with loving eyes, is to know inner beauty. And to be loved is to be seen, and known, as we are known to no other."

Those who love truly do see things differently. And I'm not speaking solely of romantic love. To be passionate about anything means we have a knack for "seeing things that others do not see". My Jeremy, a talented photographer, sees colors and nuances in the world that escape me. On a trip to Wyoming earlier this summer, I saw nothing but brown, dried-up grass on rolling hills. Jeremy, on the other hand, was enthralled by the subtlety and blending of colors; he noticed how the light played upon the earth. He was entranced; I was looking for the next rest area.

Notice the photo to the right. Taken on a trip to Red Feather Lakes, Jeremy and I were seated outside our cabin when he admonished me not to move, grabbed his camera and started snapping away about two inches from my nose. He saw, in the reflection of my sunglasses, an image that most would not see. Now when I look at the photo, the first thing I see is his reflection. That is as it should be. When you love, you see things that others do not see.

My couples are always amazed at how quickly I can ad lib when something unexpected comes up at their wedding ceremony. I've had wedding party members faint, flower girls get stung by bees, grooms sob uncontrollably when reciting their vows, Unity Candles that blow out in the wind and of course there's the unpredictable Colorado weather. All is handled with humor and aplomb. I see things that others do not see, so it flows. Put me in another social situation where I do not have that knack and you'll find my responses somewhat less ingenious, to be sure.

I think that's the reality with anything in life. To excel at something--be it a relationship, a role, a career, an entrepreneurial endeavor, or a hobby--we need to see things that others do not see. Maybe that's the acid test of what business you should start. What is it you see that others do not? Can you determine the faint hint of nutmeg in a banana bread? Do you look at a car engine and get an immediate feeling of what is wrong? Walk into a drab room and envision how it will be transformed with a bit of paint and some window treatments? Can you make numbers dance on the page? Entice unruly children to cooperate? Review a piece of writing and instantly spot grammatical errors?

What do you see?

Reflections on a hole

Victory belongs to the most persevering.

Napoleon Bonaparte

I've done it. I have conquered my arch rival. Smote my enemy and emerged victorious! (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you need to skip down and read yesterday's blog entry.

Yes, finally today after nearly two weeks of battle, the concrete slab was extricated. Picture it! I approach my enemy with stealth and determination, grateful that Mother Nature was on my side. A torrential downpour during the night softened (and muddied to the extreme!) the earth, assisting my excavation strategy. I circle my adversary, seeking its Achilles heel. Finding none, I resort to my trusty trowel and the scraping process begins yet again. Probably no more than a 1/4 to 1/2 cup at a time. My hands bloody in no time and my sneakers are mired in wet mud--giving me a Hermann Munster look. (Very attractive!). I glance at my watch and vow to give this travesty no more than 20 minutes. As I'm working, I hear the unmistakable thump and thud of cars colliding and I look up to see a three-car chain reaction accident. I pause momentarily to see if anyone is hurt and when I see three heads emerge from the vehicles, all talking on cell phones, I go back to my task. (This is not as callous as it sounds--there is generally one collision outside my door on a weekly basis; one learns to assess the extent of the damage and go about one's business. Besides, this one was little more than a fender-bender.)

My progress is slow. (Is the suspense not killing you???). I resign myself that this is not going to be my day of victory after all and pick up my crowbar rather dispiritedly for one last blow. Clang! I hit it so hard that sparks fly. Was that movement? I strike again. It lists to one side. Scrambling down like my life depends on it, I tug. It wiggles. I heave. It tumbles. With one final thrust, I yank it out of the hole and drop it with an unceremonious thud to the ground. I toy with the idea of a victory dance, but then decide the accident victims--who were now bickering and casting aspersions on each other's character in the middle of the street--will not appreciate my glee. So I resort to the task of transplanting the cucumber plant that precipitated this arduous task.

Victory is sweet! So, here's what I've learned from my adventures in excavation:

1. Little efforts really do add up to success.
2. The hardest part of any task is staying in the trenches.
3. Sometimes, even when others offer to help, you just have to do it yourself.
4. Anger and frustration are great motivators.
5. Sometimes you have to get really muddy to affect change.
6. Woody Allen was right--success is achieved mostly just by showing up
7. A little manual labor never hurt anyone (but it's murder on your back!)
8. Just when things seem impossible, the Universe comes along and gives you an edge.
9. Some days its your turn to revel in success; some days it's your turn to get into a fender-bender. Hopefully in the end, you've had more days like the former rather than the latter.
10. Oftentimes its the little victories that make life sweet