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Home For The Holidays It's funny how the Christmas season has developed and changed so much from last year to this one. Our relationships and traditions and network of friends have become incredibly dynamic and somehow older, more grown up than they have ever been. Each of us has grown up this year and the sum total of that increased maturity is impacting our group in mini-shock-waves, as each of us begins to realize the effect of all of the small changes in our lives and our patterns. Some things feel like forever and then suddenly one day they are not forever any more: they aren't even for tomorrow. But some things feel like forever and we realize why they are forever, why we need that permanence and what a beautiful gift that "forever" is.We started off the Christmas season on the 13th with the "5th Annual Pug and Canoegirl Christmas Bash". Originally this event was a huge party at Pug's place, with an extensive guest list, massive amounts of alcohol ingestion, and all of it lit by Christmas lights. If I remember correctly, the invitation for the first year said "BYOB but please avoid spraying my walls with puke". That first year, I awoke to Pug's dog snoring at the foot of my sleeping bag in a puddle of drool, Pug herself groaning on the kitchen floor unable to even get up to get gravol, and having to be functional enough to drive the handbell players to their performance with the symphony. Each succeeding year the parties became increasingly Christmassy and less saturated with alcohol (and therefore less flammable), more family oriented and less about hooking up with that cutie. This year we had an awesome selection of snacks, 4 babies under the age of 18 months, a Christmas movie and presents for the kids, and I don't think anyone had more than 2 drinks. No one slept over, no one hooked up, no one threw up; I think we all grew up. Next, on the 20th, was the "7th Annual Cookie & Chocolate Making Party" a creation of the amazing Kristian. We would gather every Christmas and bake and decorate cookies and chocolates, the majority of which would be donated to a charity. Again this was typically a large group event where so many people attended that often you didn't actually touch any of the baking. It was just wonderful to gather with all of your friends at Christmas time, in a home filled with the sweet scents of melted chocolate, creamy icing and fresh baked sugar cookies, to sing and hug and laugh in the bright glow of friendship, and to be warmed by an easy act of charity. This year when I arrived, admittedly late but not exceptionally so, I found the house dark and empty looking. I rang the bell to be greeted by Kristian and Droolia; the roughly six other cookie-partiers had left more than an hour before. As we sat on the couch and chatted with Droolia lying between us, the house still held the faint scent and warmth of fresh baked cookies, an echo of cookie parties past, and I felt that if I managed to squint my eyes and hope, to turn my head quickly enough, I could see the cookie party as it used to be and all of the friends that were missing. The 21st brought a new home for the Christmas spirit as the Party House held their second annual Pseudo-Christmas. Originally this was intended as both a surrogate Christmas for our friend Lawn who was missing Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's last year because of his work, and as a time to have Christmas with our second family, the tight-knit group of choir friends (roughly 22 of us). This year Lawn couldn't attend and our tight-knit group had become more of an enormous network. The Party House successfully held a sit-down potluck dinner for roughly 35 guests this year, despite blowing a fuse that took out the furnace, stove, oven and microwave early on in the cooking process (they insist that next year they are renting a hall). We enjoyed an orgy of fantastic food, great company, thoughtful gifts, warm hugs, and cheerful chaos. It felt like a reunion, with all of the new discovery and forgiveness that a reunion entails. On the evening of the 22nd, we held the Second Secret Stocking Stuffing, one of my own creations. I suggested last year to the Party House that it would be fun to have us all hang stockings in one place, to each draw a name and fill the stocking, and to open them all together. It would help to tie the ends of our group together, both by learning what to get for one person and by seeing what someone else chose for their gift. Kristian, always looking for an opportunity to enrich the lives of others, added that we could put together a hamper for a needy family by each contributing a few items. After a nightmare of organization, an ocean of complaints, a few fits of exhausted tears and a ridiculous amount of stress for so simple a concept, the exchange came together successfully. We held it at Smackey's new house in the large bright front room around their Christmas tree. The gifts were beautiful and thoughtful, and I know I enjoyed learning more about my dearly loved friends. I'd like to hope that we'll continue with this tradition, but I don't think that very many people care about it, especially not with Pseudo-Christmas going on, and it just may sadly go the way of the Cookie Party and Pug's Christmas Bash. For the past 10 years or so I have found a way to sing for a charity of some kind during the Christmas season. I started out by organizing my high school friends to sing carols in a neighborhood, just to spread Christmas cheer. So many people insisted on giving us donations that we started collecting for the food bank and Santas Anonymous. I've sung since then in hospitals and nursing homes, rich areas and poor, for free or for donations. This year I went with Africa and Foreman to sing Christmas carols in a nursing home in Sherwood Park and on Christmas day I went with Bear's family to sing for the Boyle Street dinner for the inner city poor (I have no idea what the official name is). Watching events like this, ones where tremendous resources are gathered to help those less fortunate have a happier holiday season makes me wonder what would happen if we could harness that magnitude of good will year round. How much it would improve the state of our city, the homeless, the hungry and the abused? Would it make a difference at all? I don't know, but it doesn't stop me from helping a bit every year. On Christmas Day, I joined Bear's family ritual for the first time. It's a beautiful and simple ceremony, full of love and worship, thanksgiving and renewal. I can't help but love his family and marvel at their strength and warmth and joy. It helps me to understand part of why I love him so much and why I need him in my life. He opens my eyes to new wonders that I would otherwise miss, that are such an integral part of the way he is that he barely notices them anymore, but they are new, amazing and wonderful to me. The rest of Christmas Day was spent in travel and chaos, food and rest. It was a full day, in every way. New Year's Eve we had a fondue dinner with my family: bread, cheese, meat and broth, with wine, garlic and spices for seasoning. We then went to my friends' place: Arat and Hooge were married this past summer and had just returned from their honeymoon in the Dominican Republic. They decided to bring back a taste of the tropics and we celebrated with leis and beachwear, steel drum music, pina coladas (not for me) and tropical fish decorations. We then rushed back to the Party House to welcome in the New Year with our extended choir family. I was sad, but not surprised, to find some conspicuous absences: Kristian and Smacked, Africa and Foreman, Plaid and Gee, Bbb's new boyfriend Bond, among others. Neither Bear nor I found that we had regrets to burn this year, nor did we need resolutions. We went home and spent the night content in each other's presence. Bear and I started the New Year happy and in love, having survived the rigors of 2003; more certain of what our future together would hold and what we would hold on to in the future. I awoke on the first day of 2004 knowing what was important to me and where I belonged: at home with Bear and ready for peace, hope, love and joy. Ready for anything the New Year would bring, with Bear at my side, in my heart and in my home. 2004-01-03 || 3:38 p.m. |
