Sunday, November 06, 2005

The heart of man's a palace, and his dreams are as the sunrise



Recently, I came to the realization that my college friends and I will be celebrating our 6th anniversary of friendship come 2006. While not one to generally celebrate such milestones (particularly if the celebration doesn't call for a romantic mini-break with my soulmate--an Alton Brown, George Clooney, Clive Owens type meant just for me--which, obviously, in this case it does not), it turns out that 6 years is one-quarter of my lifetime. These people (loving refered to as My Chosen Family) have been around for a signifigant portion of my life. We watched (and helped) each other "grow up," stood together as we eached learned them meaning of personal independance, and still offer each other the laughter, shoulders, tears, wisdom, etc. we all need. No small task.

This revelation, and the approaching holiday season, have brought me to a very nostalgic place. What about the other three-quarters of my life? While I keep intouch with one or two close friends from life before college, it sometimes feels as though that time and those memories are slowly sliding away, making room for all that is to come. However, there are things I don't want to lose. For example: listening to radio programs with my father, cooking with my paternal grandmother, visits to my maternal grandparents' farm, church services (specific Easters and Christmases with childhood and family friends), songs, "jam sessions" with the Strong women and my younger brother's innate ability to comfort. Even as I write this, memories I have not revisited in years come flooding back.

One key to the nostalgia puzzle is to remember the why and wherefore of traditions. For my family, this is particularly true during the "holiday season, " a time extending from November until April: Thanksgiving, Advent, St. Nicholas Day, Christmas, Epiphany, Ash Wednesday, Lent, Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter. Growing up on the Anglican calendar, it sometimes felt as though everyone in the family held their breath until the Easter Vigil (perhaps explaining why it's one of my favorite services of the year). So, at a relatively young age, I took on some of work "back at the ranch."

I have long been the cleaner, decorator and cook in my family, (especially around the holidays). This wasn't something I was asked to do, but something I took on in addition to my regular chores. While my parents dealt with the spiritual needs of their parishioners (and the varied needs of their children), I suppose I sensed a need to take care of them. While they performed 5-6 services a holiday weekend, I would plan dinner, con my siblings into decorating/cleaning the house and make sure that the things that were supposed to take place every year happened. After Thanksgiving dinner, we would gather to watch the "new" Miracle on 34th Street; after putting out my mother's rather extensive collection of St. Nicks (or "the army of Nicoli"--so dubbed as the entire collection march across the piano in military formation one year) my brother, sister and I would put on a St. Nicholas Day play retelling the great Saint's story; White Christmas usually came out the 2nd or 3rd week of Advent, as did The Muppet Family Christmas and The Muppet Christmas Carol; holiday music made it's way up from the basement to the stereo well before the 1st Sunday of December; favorite holiday foods (my father's department--and eventually mine) and cookies (my mother's) were requested. While hectic and stressful for everyone, the holidays always came together. The traditions have been tweaked a bit as we've moved into a new home and grown older, but a Strong family Christmas remains a unique celebration, and one of my favorite things.

Which is why I have spent a embarrassingly large amount of time looking 1986's Peter, Paul and Mary Holiday Concert on DVD. Our family tape has slowly deteriorated, and while the CD is wonderful it's not the same. As I was about to give up hope, a copy from South Korea became available on Amazon.com. When I received it this week, it was difficult for me to contain my glee. As I watched it, I found myself both elated and tearful. Here was one of my most favorite Christmas memories, digitally remastered for my veiwing pleasure. So what was pulling at my heartstrings? Nostalgia? Something more?

To be sure, my new DVD takes me back to my fourth Christmas, when I watched the tape constantly, singing along with people I was not only sure I loved, but who certainly loved me. But, the music of PP&M, particularly the original holiday music, is a constant reminder of what I hold onto while sending out my Christmas cards, planning dinners and making my own pilgrimage to Massachusetts: we have come so very far, we owe so very much for what we have, we have so far to go. Regardless of religious tradition, this time is a celebration of passionate, far-reaching joy and a re-commitment to our fellow-man; we are celebrating and calling for peace. And that philosophy's part of my childhood as much as the holiday traditions, if not more so.

One-quarter of lifetime: that's alot. But the three-quarters proceeding have memories that we may only alight upon in passing. I am made up of all my experiences, traditions and beliefs. Sometimes I just need a little reminding.

Light one candle for the Maccabee children
With thanks that their light didn't die

Light one candle for the pain they endured

When their right to exist was denied
Light one candle for the terrible sacrifice

Justice and freedom demand
But light one candle for the wisdom to know

When the peacemaker's time is at hand


Don't let the light go out!

It's lasted for so many years!

Don't let the light go out!

Let it shine through our love and our tears.


Light one candle for the strength that we need

To never become our own foe

And light one candle for those who are suffering
Pain we learned so long ago

Light one candle for all we believe in

That anger not tear us apart

And light one candle to find us together
With peace as the song in our hearts


What is the memory that's valued so highly

That we keep it alive in that flame?

What's the commitment to those who have died

That we cry out they've not died in vain?

We have come this far always believing

That justice would somehow prevail

This is the burden, this is the promise

This is why we will not fail!

1 Comments:

Blogger mark said...

so are you still thinking about the concert at carnegie hall? or are you satisfied with the DVD?

9:39 AM  

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