Gingerbread Christmas

Christmas is supposed to be about Love. Joy. Wonder. Goodness. Gladness. Hope. Miracles. Things that I have felt are quite lacking lately in the world this 2016. It was a bit of an anticlimactic holiday around these parts. Planning to be on call (for at least c-sections), we stuck around... only to find out that I wasn't put on call for Christmas, but only for the New Year weekend. We haven't actually spent a Christmas in Humboldt for a few (? four) years. Due to daycare being closed for 10 days, my in-laws are in town to help with childcare while we are at the office during the week. But we didn't "celebrate" very much.  Iver and I both got sick with a cold on his birthday/the solstice, and I've' felt pretty wiped out and not much like doing anything for a few days. We went to Christmas Eve children's Mass and then Kelvin and I took Iver to Christmas morning service at New Heart; however, I just haven't felt particularly well, joyful, or like celebrating.

Feeling more and more anti-stuff as I age, I didn't really have the energy or motivation to *do up* Christmas this year. While Iver can identify Santa in photos and pictures, he didn't seem to care about him visiting, so we tried to minimize gifts under the tree. And, yes, the few Amazon boxes that came for either his birthday or Christmas went straight under the tree, without being wrapped.

He did enjoy this piano mat, from John and Inara.

 

Kelvin and I don't really do gifts for each other, but more have been trying to spend our money on experiences, and he decided to book us (due to having grandparents around who could watch the child) a night away at a special B & B in Ferndale (about 40 minutes south of us).

Once a hospital, with construction starting in 1894, the Gingerbread Mansion is one of Ferndale's most beautiful historic Victorian buildings.

It was an absolutely delightful place to spend a night. The ambience and Christmas decor were gorgeous, and we enjoyed complimentary wine and hors d'oeuvres, a cozy in-room (electric) fireplace in our Veneto room with its claw-foot tub and hand-painted mural, relaxing and reading, and sleeping in until 6:45 a.m., without a 4:30 a.m.-early-rising toddler to rouse us. We had delicious in-room coffee and frittata downstairs for breakfast in the dining area. I thank Kelvin's parents as much as him for the Christmas gift of babysitting, which allowed us some quiet time away, which has been much needed for our marriage and our souls.

Iver had a grand old time with the Grandparents (see below army-crawling or "swimming" video), and it was a good night for all.

 

To close, here is a poem I came across which captures some of the feelings I have had this end-of-2016. I'm praying for more hope, and more peace in the coming year.

 "Amazing Peace," by Maya Angelou.

Thunder rumbles in the mountain passes
And lightning rattles the eaves of our houses.
Flood waters await us in our avenues.

Snow falls upon snow, falls upon snow to avalanche
Over unprotected villages.
The sky slips low and grey and threatening.

We question ourselves.
What have we done to so affront nature?
We worry God.
Are you there? Are you there really?
Does the covenant you made with us still hold?

Into this climate of fear and apprehension, Christmas enters,
Streaming lights of joy, ringing bells of hope
And singing carols of forgiveness high up in the bright air.
The world is encouraged to come away from rancor,
Come the way of friendship.

It is the Glad Season.
Thunder ebbs to silence and lightning sleeps quietly in the corner.
Flood waters recede into memory.
Snow becomes a yielding cushion to aid us
As we make our way to higher ground.

Hope is born again in the faces of children
It rides on the shoulders of our aged as they walk into their sunsets.
Hope spreads around the earth. Brightening all things,
Even hate which crouches breeding in dark corridors.

In our joy, we think we hear a whisper.
At first it is too soft. Then only half heard.
We listen carefully as it gathers strength.
We hear a sweetness.
The word is Peace.
It is loud now. It is louder.
Louder than the explosion of bombs.

We tremble at the sound. We are thrilled by its presence.
It is what we have hungered for.
Not just the absence of war. But, true Peace.
A harmony of spirit, a comfort of courtesies.
Security for our beloveds and their beloveds.

We clap hands and welcome the Peace of Christmas.
We beckon this good season to wait a while with us.
We, Baptist and Buddhist, Methodist and Muslim, say come.
Peace.
Come and fill us and our world with your majesty.
We, the Jew and the Jainist, the Catholic and the Confucian,
Implore you, to stay a while with us.
So we may learn by your shimmering light
How to look beyond complexion and see community.

It is Christmas time, a halting of hate time.

On this platform of peace, we can create a language
To translate ourselves to ourselves and to each other.

At this Holy Instant, we celebrate the Birth of Jesus Christ
Into the great religions of the world.
We jubilate the precious advent of trust.
We shout with glorious tongues at the coming of hope.
All the earth's tribes loosen their voices
To celebrate the promise of Peace.

We, Angels and Mortals, Believers and Non-Believers,
Look heavenward and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at our world and speak the word aloud.
Peace. We look at each other, then into ourselves
And we say without shyness or apology or hesitation.

Peace, My Brother.
Peace, My Sister.
Peace, My Soul.”