Jen decorated the house and the yard in my absence this year. When I first heard the news, I was wistful for the moments of unpacking each ornament with its associated memories.
But after eight unscheduled hours in the Atlanta airport and a rocky 45 minute flight into Brunswick with a pilot who may start to shave next year, it was magic to pull up to our house at 4 a.m. and see the porch and lawn bathed with lights.
The garland was on the banisters, the creche in the dining room, the carousel and village in the living room -- all so wonderfully familiar in a year that has been anything but.
The tree stood a silent storyteller with the ornaments made by the smaller hands of our daughters and marking the milestone of our lives. We don't know where our tree will be next year, but it will continue to tell the same wonderful story.
The next morning we met Rog and Anne for lunch. For seven years, Rog and I have done a lunch time holiday exchange. This would likely be the last face-to-face. Our spouses joined us for the first time ever. Anne gently handed me a snowman made from three perfect sand dollars from the beach here, his scarf was moss and his arms twigs from the island's ancient water oaks. As she laid it in my hand, I knew our lunch tradition would live every time I hung the ornament.
Charlie and I went on to meet Carol at the Carol/Judi spot, always the same seats with the maraschino cherries close-by for Carol and Joey the bartender ready to keep our wine glasses full. So many of the world's problems had been solved, at least temporarily, from this perch. The thought of not returning was almost too sad to consider. But Carol and Flynn are planning a trip to Buffalo in October and we may just have to sneak back to the island when she's here. Those cherries taste so good accompanied by our conversation.
Then Bobby and Karen brought Noah over for a pizza dinner, the food and gifts being secondary to the laughter shared. I was happily exhausted when my head hit the pillow early that night.
Our family traditions revolve around Christmas Eve, the unstated specter of Jessica's first holiday absence hung over the preparation. Smokie wasn't there for the giblets. There was a smattering of presents under the tree rather than the usual mountains. Jen admitted, just before the four of us sat down, that she hadn't told Nick about the Wigilia, a Polish breaking bread tradition that is an affirmation of family.
As the youngest at the table, Jen had to start breaking the wafer with each person at the table and sharing her hopes and wishes for the coming year.
Happy tears started welling as she told Nick how much she appreciated him, they were escaping the corners of my eyes when she got to me and pouring when she finished with her Dad. Nick acquitted himself quite well thinking on his feet and speaking from his heart. Charlie's messages for each of us were the best ever.
My heart was full and overflowing. For all the things we don't have this year, we couldn't possibly be richer.



Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs