(keyhole crescent lit up)
(front of house)
(front hall rug)
(l’arbre par nuit–my talented daughter’s annual artistic gift)
(living-room in the a.m.; winter scene painting, prominent poinsettia on coffee table and CD player–right, for Xmas carols, Xmas music of olde–English choir carols, music by Andy Williams, Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, et al)
(cropped photo detail from 2004 Edmonton Art Gallery poster on my study door, “First Snow”–painting by the truly great Alex Colville, 1998)
Del’s last Christmas was in 1997. He had been diagnosed with cancer in September that year and the cancer and treatments had started to obviously ‘waste’ him, something I became aware of when I was in Winnipeg that November. I drove the family the last week in December in -35 C across the prairies for them to be with him, for likely the last time as we all likely knew. He was very tired all the time and could not eat more than 2-3 mouthfuls, but he was in good spirits for the visit. In particular, he showed the kids my parents’ photo albums and various artifacts around the one-bedroom apartment. It seems like he could only do a couple of hours with us each day, he was that exhausted. However, we spent New Year’s Eve with them before we drove back home the following day.
Rose’s last Christmas was, nine years later, in 2006. (This time, we flew to be with her.)She was able to walk, slowly, three flights of stairs at that point so we were able to take her out for a drive in the rented van to see the city lights–something she really appreciated, even commenting that her pain had magically subsided. We also took her to Assiniboine Park to the zoo part where my dad’s bench and plaque were and cleaned the snow off for pictures. Special treats included a Chinese food supper one night and Rose dancing with her teenage grandson. Unlike Del, I don’t know that she felt this was the last time she would see the family, and we know that she had hoped to make it to my son’s wedding in the summer of 2007 (which sadly was not to be).
Amazingly, Del and Rose died on the same day/date March 31. He passed quickly in Winnipeg General after learning one morning that he would be going to a long-term care facility, not back home. She died quickly, within days, in the Riverview cancer facility after she was removed from home via ambulance. The decline was fast following her admission, after she realized and anxiously whispered to me “We forgot the cigarettes.”
They died within one hour of each other on that same day. There is a lot that is mystery and I don’t believe my mother was aware of dates or time for the last week before she drifted into the coma that led to her admission. But the irony and significance of their death dates and times did not escape me. My parents were that close.
Del and Rose were generally very happy people and inseparable in their retirement years. They were always quite active, walking miles to and from the park they loved each day. They did a lot of line and round dancing, and were snazzy dressers–formal and classy-looking. As you can see from the picture above they were vibrant, outgoing types. They enjoyed travel and considered themselves very fortunate for even the smallest of gifts. And they always looked out for those older and less fortunate than themselves, often befriending and visiting these people, even non-family members.
Gifts, company, family, kids, peace and joy aside, Christmas is also a time for reflection and perspective. Life and Christmas, in many ways, is simply presence and absence. And sometimes we get lucky–though one should never delay, especially when one has the intuition and opportunity (which, of course, was not there again for both these people the following Christmases). Del and Rose truly enjoyed those last Christmases as did I and the family. Those were special, unforgettable Christmases for all concerned, even for those–my remarkable parents–no longer present today. How they smiled and laughed those final visits. How grateful all were to be together, despite the schedules and geographical distance, even in those difficult, challenging, and obviously so sadder times.
March 31 is always a memorable day. But Christmas–those last Christmases, is how and when I fondly remember Rose and Del. When they were last with the family they loved, at home, in their world.
Dazzling & bright
eye m just visiting
yr loco galaxy
a whimsical bit
of cosmic mass
from `somewhere else.`
Entering yr atmosphere
eye plunge comet-like
thru clouds of destiny
sidereal satellite
of the last 1/4
my magnitude unlimited.
Don`t look 2 long
at my radiants tho`
lest eye scorch yr
site 4 good–
……………………..
(an oldie from 1989 AD with a hybrid mix of pre-textspeak and bill bissett)
“The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.” “The goal of the journey is to discover yourself as consciousness.”–Joseph Campbell
The comet lit up the sky for weeks and months, changing the lives of many. A very intense bright light from somewhere else. In many ways it was the dead greats who could have told you more about it, why and how it moved the way it did. The lovers too, who lived in and for one another. They knew something about the heat and light it gave off in cold winter sky where all was otherwise frost and frigidness.
The comet glowed and was most itself beyond language, beyond time, beyond music, beyond convention, beyond mere limits and limitations of all kinds. It was free and shone like a bright spirit ablaze, filling, nay flooding a room with its veritable light and love-giving radiance.
In the end, all one could say for sure was that it was very large and unlike anything one had ever known or been remotely close to before.
And so it blazed that December on many heads-down days while others worked and chased money and forgot their own vital incandescences. Finally, it was just a brilliant reminder of what might be possible if one broke free or chose a life in stars or dream. This comet, this great glowing spirit which simply was what it was, and nothing else.
(1st published here Jan. 21, 2013)
I pulled back the small drape on the side door window, and there was Venus in the great winter darkness. What a treat and privilege!
Easy to pick out the civilian teacher (lead singer-rhythm guitarist) who didn’t have a day job on the base. (A magical musical opportunity a mere 41 years ago.)
Christmas of U.K. Olde does not get better than Dylan Thomas’s “A Child’s Christmas in Wales”, when experienced on Christmas eve or Christmas Day. Dylan Thomas Reading (which features the classic story read by Thomas himself) was the first album Thomas recorded for the two bold women who founded Caedmon Records; this was the label’s first release in 1952.
The special blue booklet of the story with woodcut illustrations by Ellen Raskin (New Directions, 1954, reissued since in a matching blue envelope) has long been another Christmas staple, too. Later came the excellent 1988 movie adaptation (Hen’s Tooth/Alliance Atlantis) of the story starring the great Denholm Elliott as the grandfather. All are very highly recommended reading, listening, and viewing.
In deep November there is disbelief
A loss of faith that winter, not yet here,
Will go about its business and be brief.
Instead the season generates a fear
That winter, once in place will stay that way
Forever–cold and bleak, cheerless and stark–
As icy blasts relentlessly hold sway,
Consigning us forever to the dark.
But then December comes along, and lo!
What lights are these that sparkle, clear and bright?
Instead of darkness, there’s a happy glow
Of red and green that glistens through the night,
And where we feared that coldness might prevail
The warmth of love tells quite a different tale!
–R. Glenn Martin
…………………………………………….
Glenn was my ED Curriculum and Instruction ( i.e., how to teach English in senior high) prof at U of A in 1971-2 A.D. He published my first articles in Alberta English, notably one on Canadian literature. Glenn was a generally genial gentleman and a long-time friend. He was a Harvard grad and took a class with Robert Frost who encouraged the students to write poetry. (Frost sent him a Christmas card.) Glenn and I shared a great love of poetry and we often talked of Emily Dickinson. In his last good year, I escorted him to the Edmonton Symphony and we dined out each time. The last time I saw him in hospital, he was happily in his own world, but sort of recognized me and whistled (quite accurately) the melody of a Beethoven piece. (His favorite composer on whom he lectured via a U of Ex Extension class.) It was my honour to read the eulogy at his funeral. He was a brilliant, witty, kind man who talked me into staying in my first/junior high student teaching round when I wanted to quit. After that, I was the only one who ever sent him a Xmas card every year, something he noted and appreciated. One of my literary heroes and major influences, remembered this Tuesday eve.
(the two must-see Christamas movies of all time; recommended versions: 1951’s A Christmas Carol (VCI Entertainment)–intro by recently deceased Patrick MacNee of The Avengers TV series; 1947’s It’s a Wonderful Life (Alliance Atlantis)
…………………………………………………………
“He who loses his life shall find it.” -quoted by Joseph Campbell
Two of the most inspiring Christmas movies ever are the Alistair Sim version of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, and Frank Capra’s movie It’s a Wonderful Life. They have inspired many generations of viewers with their simple, yet profound core messages about life.
Both show us the great difference between (transitory, ephemeral, living) presence and (deathly, ghostly, forever) absence–or the extreme loss of presence. In the Dickens’ former, Scrooge comes to learn the hard way that absence can be a terrible point-of-no-return and that he has meanly absented himself from his family, his sister, her son, his fiance, his employee Bob Cratchit, and his business partner Marley. In his heartless obsession with accumulating meaningless wealth, he has also alienated himself from whatever good qualities he once possessed or valued in the past.
It is only through realizing unchangeable, irrevocable absences like those of his dead sister, fiance, and Marley and by being given a glimpse of a future without Tiny Tim and himself, that he is able to reconnect with finer values of kindness, love, and generosity. These values, in turn, help him to reconnect positively with both society and his once-better self. In the world of A Christmas Carol, the only other alternative is grim, stark hopelessness, suffering, and death, as amply revealed by the three ghosts who visit Scrooge.
Scrooge’s final appreciation of presence and being alive become epiphany and reason enough for him to celebrate and re/connect with the social world. Though this change comes late in his life, Scrooge magically finds that he can will any possibility into being with humor and a better attitude–key positive manifestations of both presence and consciousness.
Likewise, George Bailey, the main character in It’s a Wonderful Life, suddenly finds himself ‘lost’ and ‘gone missing’ in a way reminiscent of Scrooge, but, in contrast, he is truly a desperate man driven by crisis to the brink of suicide. The beginning of his salvation occurs at the bridge when he saves his drowning guardian angel Clarence. That event alone reveals George’s essential nature of putting others before himself, something he had previously done all his life.
Like Scrooge, he is shown life without his presence and an alternate nightmarish version of his own community–a negative view caused by his absence and his granted wish to never been born. After a final repentance, George is given back his less-than-perfect life, grateful for the chance to recover both presence and life. Like Scrooge, his limited/limiting, blinkered attitude changes and he embraces life, with all its problems and shortcomings. That said, both protagonists find a richness through their experience and a renewed appreciation of presence and others. And as both characters discover, nearly anything becomes possible when one fully accepts and embraces life and presence.
Today we still hear that Christmas can be a stressful, isolating time of year for some individuals in our society. For those who may find themselves similarly ‘lost’ or ‘gone missing’ like George and Scrooge, these two classics offer helpful perspectives on some of the ‘basics’ for finding one’s better/best self, or recovering meaning within one’s own life.
(entry writeup 1st posted here December 2, 2013)
