Christmas 2009

I love Christmas. I especially love it when it is July and I'm sweltering in the heat and TV networks are showing Christmas specials as the subtle reminder that we only have 143 shopping days left. Nothing's better than that warm, fuzzy Christmas feeling in the middle of summer. I usually vow, right then and there, before the July 4th fireworks are lit, that this year Christmas will be different. I always make myself a promise that the coming holiday will not catch me off guard and I will be prepared, shopping done and gifts wrapped by the first Sunday of Advent.

I make myself that promise every year, and each year, September comes and we toast our anniversary on the 23rd. How quickly October 9th arrives and we celebrate Dave's birthday toasting with the good scotch in the crystal tumblers. Before we know it, Halloween arrives and we watch the leaves change, take in the harvest moon and, 6 days after Halloween it's Katie's birthday. Fifteen days after Kate's birthday, it is once again time to blow out candles, but this time on Brent's birthday cake. A week after Brent's birthday, Thanksgiving arrives and immediately thereafter, a blink really, it's December 10 we are singing, in harmony, "Happy Birthday dear Vanessa". When that first candle is lit on the Advent wreath, I'm usually stressed and am astonished that I'm left, once again, unprepared.

I distinctly remember walking into Peet's Coffee one morning for my latte, three equals and extra foam. Not that I need the menu, I have a habit of looking at it so I don't have to make eye contact with everyone before my coffee. Attempting to blink through my pre-coffee haze, I saw that, overnight, on the Sunday after Thanksgiving; they had decorated the store in green and red and changed the menu to accommodate the holiday drink favorites. On further inspection, I saw the wreaths full of mock gift cards and heard the barista call out "Egg Nog Latte for Michael". Believe me when I say I shuddered in my Crocks when I realized it was the first Monday after Thanksgiving. Nessy's birthday was nearly here and I didn't have her birthday gift and somewhere along the way, Christmas had arrived! I felt like I'd received my first dose of "Christmas in your face", compliments of your friendly, neighborhood Peet's coffee shop.

I came home and booted up my Facebook page and whined about the overnight transformation of my coffee hotspot to Holiday Headquarters. I was feeling more than pushed and I don't really know why. The Christmas ads on TV had started way before Halloween this year. So why was I pissed about Peet's transformation? Perhaps it was because when I visited there on Sunday, the day before, there was no hint of Christmas and on Monday morning, Viola! Maybe it was because I was tired and needed my caffeine fix. I'm not really sure. But, one of my Facebook family (actually my Cousin Sandy, from Texas) responded to my Grinch state of mind and said, essentially, "Why would you not want the best time of year to happen? You should look forward to the time when you celebrate with your family and friends." In other words, she said, don’t worry, be happy! It was a good wake-up (almost better than the latte), because when I looked at my posting later, I realized she was right. Instead of dreading what was before me, I needed to embrace it. I didn't realize then, that less than 6 days later my beloved Mother-in-law, Anna would die in my arms. Although she had been ill, at that point in time, I thought she'd make it until Christmas. It's funny how Divine Grace works, sometimes it's that seed that someone plants in your heart which grows and blossoms into something life changing and beautiful.

Although we said good-bye to Ann, and we were all sad to see our family matriarch join the ranks of Heaven's best, it was a beautiful death. (Sounds like an oxy moron, but there isn't another way to describe it.) With the help of Hospice we were able to keep her comfortable and the first snowfall which began as she left this world was the perfect metaphor for our beloved Grandma's transformation from being frail, sick and tired to what, I believe, was heaven's gates opening to receive her. "I's" dotted and "T's" crossed. I believe that as humans we sometimes need a slap in the face to remind us not to sweat the small stuff....and the preparations for Christmas, especially when facing the death of a loved one, is just that--small stuff. It should be a time of praise and remembrance of the birth of our savior, Jesus Christ. Moreover, it is about being with the ones you love--being present, not giving them. The stockings, tree, cards, baked goods, garlands, and egg nog lattes are just like the sprinkles on top of your Fro Yo (frozen yogurt). Garnish. Nothing more.

Once Grandma was buried and blessed, I began my preparations for Christmas, not with the usual whine and whimper, but with open arms. I simplified when I could, delegate as much as humanly possible, listened to Christmas music and realized how lucky I was. Yes, I had lost someone who was very dear to me, but she left an imprint on my heart which will forever remain. Instead of fighting the preparations, I embraced them. We went ice skating with Snoopy, watched the tree lighting and sang "O, Come all Yee Faithful". We drove around and looked the Christmas lights and decorations, savored the sweet lemons from our tree and lit the Christmas candles soaking up their warm glow. There was still work ahead for me to ensure that everyone's Christmas was perfect. After all, I AM the family matriarch now and Christmas is MY responsibility. I did, however, remind myself that there really is no present as perfect as the time we spend together as a family. The Kodak moments of my life which will flash before me at the very end will be not about tensile and lights, they will be snapshots of the laughter shared, the stories kept alive by tradition and love and about giving to others. When you "pay it forward" grace and goodness are like a boom-a-rang.

My favorite part of Christmas will always be Christmas Eve. It is after we've feasted on freshly cooked Dungeness Crab a tradition started by my parents 35 years ago. It is long after the last bite of Jamie's shrimp Louie is bagged up for later consumption. There is this special moment when the 15 year old scotch is drunk, the Korbel is uncorked, dishes are done, Karen Carpenter has sung "Merry Christmas, Darling" and the table is set for the morning. I love to breathe in a sigh and a prayer that stockings are stuffed, the house is tidy waiting for the Christmas morning chos of presents, egg nog and cinnamon rolls. After we've laid baby Jesus in his crèche and before Ralphie has received his Red Rider BB Gun is when my personal moment begins. The magical part of Christmas for me is that time; when the wrapping is done, the anticipation is high and I am the last one awake in my cozy little house. I always stop for a moment and look back over my shoulder in awe and wonder on Christmas which has unfolded, regardless of the circumstances. Despite the economy, job situations or even the death of a loved one, Christmas always blooms like a red Amaryllis. During this brief moment, before I retire for my long winter's nap, when I see the lit tree, extinguished candles and piles of presents, I always stop and take in that last quiet moment. Perfection! It is the warmest and fuzziest I will be all year. I'm always amazed at the beauty of that one brief moment....before I turn to walk down the hall greeted by the gentle sounds of Dave's snoring. The beauty of that tree, lighted garlands and decorations which will glow all night in anticipation of the day to come is perhaps the most breath taking sight of the year. That snapshot will be the one which imprints my soul. It is with a full heart that I savor the quiet stillness when all are accounted for and all is merry and bright.

Good-bye Grandma

I have been asked, “What is the secret to a long, successful marriage?” Being friends? Absolutely. Love and forgiveness? There’s a whole lot of that. There are many obvious reasons why marriages are successful or why they fail. I truly believe that besides the obvious stuff, it is essential to have a good mother-in-law. I was blessed with such a woman. From the very first time we met, there was an instant and easy rapport between us. She was gracious, kind and never offered advice unless called upon. Our relationship spanned over the past 35 years. I watched her revel in births of her grandchildren. She loved each and every one of them, baked cookies and colored with them, took them shopping on payday and sped over to our house when Katie called in a panic because she was home “alone” with Vanessa and Matt and I was 5 minutes late arriving home from grocery shopping. She was always the first one to arrive when a baby was sick or when I was flat on my back after surgery. When I had three children under the age of 7 and Vanessa came down with chicken pox, 14 days later I was covered in blisters only to discover I never had the virus as a child. We went down like dominos (except for Dave who had the good sense to have them as a boy). She was there every day to nurse us back to health, never complaining, helping Vanessa who was better by the time the rest of us were sick, doing laundry and sometimes just sitting with me to try to cheer me up.

Grandma loved movies and could name most all of the actors in old Hollywood. In her younger years, she always had the skinny on whoever was on the front of the National Enquirer. She read many biographies of the actors of her generation and whenever I’d forget who stared beside Jerry Lewis in “Cinderfella” or Bob Hope in “The Road to Hong Kong” she not only knew the actor, but to whom he/she was married and how many kids they had, etc. She was awesome at movie trivia.

I watched her struggle with her own aging mother who was eventually admitted to a rest home. When her dementia set in, it was the ONLY time Ann ever shared with me her difficulty visiting her Mom who couldn’t speak and was a mere shell of the woman who lovingly raised her and was her best friend. Someone who didn’t love Ann as much as I did might have confused her admission as complaining. Nothing was farther from the truth. It was just so sad to watch the slow decline of her beloved mother. But she went several times each week, did her laundry, fed her, loved her and showered her with gifts.

When our kids went to Grandma and Dale’s house it was as if someone would open the screen door and say “let the games begin”. Usually shenanigans, was instigated by Dale and after someone was crying (usually Katie) Grandma would turn, hand on hip and say, “Oh Dale!”. Her house was always full of laughter and treats with a sprinkle of teasing and fun. Once the kids arrived, the candy dish was attacked as if piranhas had been set loose. Grandma introduced our kids to the “old school” Abbott and Costello and soon it was a Halloween favorite. The kids always had their own toys at her house as well as a change of clothes. They were always comfortable at Grandma’s house, it was a happy place.

Until she moved to Cobb, she never missed a dance recital or a choral performance or a play. She always came to see at least one sports game during the year and I know I wasn’t the only one who could see how proud she was of her grandkids.

When my own parents became ill, first my Dad, then my Mom, she was there to help with the kids and encouraging words for me. I knew she understood my sadness because she, too, had nursed her own mother to whom she was so very close. She knew the sadness of being a perfectly grown adult, with children, a home, and responsibility and yet experience the intense sadness which comes from loosing a parent. I believe a loss of that kind puts a hole in your heart and although it heals, it does so around the hole which remains forever.

This year, I became a mother-in-law when our daughter, Vanessa married Frank. Katie and Brent will be married on June 19, 2010 and I don’t feel the documentation necessary to refer to Brent as my son-in-law. He’s been here for the long haul and earned his stripes doing Sunday dishes and getting the stuff down from the top shelf. It’s important that you men know that I’ve observed the dynamic which can sometimes be present in the mothers-in-law relationship over the, now many, years of my life. I’ve seen the good, the bad and the ugly and listened to stories from friends about preverbal monster-in-laws. I promise you that I’ve learned how to behave from the best! She taught me that love and acceptance is paramount and that forgiveness is essential and that as soon as your child marries someone, that person becomes your child too. I promise you, that I will do everything in my power to be like Ann. Of course you’ve both been in the family long enough to know that I may have my moments and for these moments I apologize in advance. But when this happens (notice I didn’t say “if”) just bear with me.

The late Jacquie Kennedy once said that if you fail at being a parent, you will have failed at the most important job in the world. Because the only thing which you leave behind are your children. They are all that count. Vanessa, Katharine, Matthew and Madelyn I want you to know how very proud your Grandma was of you all. She loved being with you more than anything. She especially loved watching you grow into not just young adults, but good, solid people, with old school work ethics, exceptional values and the capacity for great love. Your father and I are so very proud of you all and how you pulled together to support Grandma during these past difficult weeks. When I arrived home on Sunday the house was decorated for Christmas. But. you didn’t stop there. You all helped plan the luncheon for today, ran errands, scrubbed toilets, folded laundry and helped to sort and scan pictures. Together, we were like a well oiled machine and completed the tasks at hand.


I may not tell you often enough, but let me remind you that you are the best part of me and your father... When we die there is nothing we take with us, except for the love of the people we’ve left behind. I’m certain of your love for Grandma and she was too. She will live on in you….her memories, stories, history and her grace.

Grace is defined, in the biblical sense as unmerited favors. Perhaps the secular definition would be karma meets paying it forward, until somehow you are touched by this wonderful moment whereby the heavens open and something so special happens, somewhat randomly, and you feel as if fairy dust has been sprinkled and is cascading down around you. As sad as it is, I feel that Grandma’s death was enveloped in Divine Grace. Her quick demise, although hard to accept, allowed her suffering to end. The immediate intervention of The Hospice Team, the amazing nurse Ro who helped us though those final hours, Dolly the cat who never left Grandma’s side the night and morning of her passing. The first snow flurries of 2009 which began to fall just as Grandma died and the continued flurries which melted as soon as they hit the windshield as she made her final trip down Mt. St. Helena and if that wasn’t enough, snow on Sonoma Mountain on Monday morning. For anyone who didn’t know, snow was Grandma’s favorite thing! I know skeptics would say these are all just coincidences. I don’t believe in coincidences. I believe in Divine Grace. I believe in miracles. I believe we are the instruments of grace. It took me half of my life before I recognized this, but I promise if you quiet yourself, listen and pay attention, you will see it too.


The changing season this Fall was exceptional; Indian summer, early rain, exquisite foliage, harvest moons and lots of green grass. Perhaps the beauty seemed more intense given that we were faced with saying good bye to our family matriarch. As we gather around our family table, the places will change, the young become old, the elders take their places among the celestial family looking down with pride on their legacy they've left behind. Our hearts are full with memories and love and the promise of a new family member next summer, Anna's first great-grandchild. And so, the circle of life remains unbroken.

Our family is a circle of love and strength.
With every birth and union the circle grows stronger.
Every joy shared adds more love
Every obstacle faced together makes the circle stronger

In closing, I would like to say what a privilege it has been to have had Anna Heizer as a mother-in-law, a friend, and a grandmother to my children. She taught me, through example, that sometimes less is more; that kids will be kids; that sitting down on a summer day to drink sweet tea and look at the JCPenneys catalog is actually better than a trip to the mall. She showed me how to quiet myself and breathe in the beauty of nature, to feed the critters and most importantly, she showed me the kind of mother-in-law and grandmother I want to be.

A Gently Shifting Universe

Ask any child what they want to be when they 'grow-up'? The answers will vary depending on the age of the child, their background, and probably where they live. When I was 5, I dreamed of being a singer...a diva like Diana Ross. When I was 8 or 9 my life's ambitions changed and I wanted to be a professional cowboy. By the time I turned 12, I wanted to be a vet. That dream was quickly quelled by the fact that I hate math and science and the sight of watching an animal in pain was more than I could handle without without Xnax. When I was 15, I fell in love and didn't cared what I did as long as I was with Dave. Although my parents were not people who valued a college education--unless you were a doctor or a lawyer-- they did believe that everyone should have a trade. I was convinced that I should attend a trade school and complete training to be a legal secretary. I hated trade school--despised it with every fiber of my being. The only thing I hated more, was working in an office. I was not the type of person who could sit at a desk and be the female counterpart to Dilbert. I needed people. I needed movement and I wasn't afraid of hard work. While attending trade school, I worked a temporary job for a deli/caterer. I discovered working in the food service business was my 'thing'. I really felt like I'd hit my stride. I loved the interaction with people, the instant gratification of a job well done and I must admit, I thrived on the adrenaline. My parent's wouldn't accept that I become "just a waitress", so I kept feelings to myself, put my head down and finished business school and was a bonafied Legal Secretary.

When we purchased our home in 1979, it didn't matter what I did as long as I generated an income. I accepted a clerical job for America's Good Neighbor, State Farm Insurance and was miserable for 5 years. I showed up everyday, did what was asked of me, but could barely get out of bed when the alarm went off. The job, however, generated a decent paycheck and excellent benefits. It was easy enough being chained to a desk shoveling paperwork and collecting a bi-weekly paycheck. The hardest part was that I worked with a bunch of sniveling women who were hormonal, temperamental and often times cut-throat. After the arrival of baby number two, I quit my job "down on the farm". I eventually went to work part-time for a local caterer. It was acceptable enough for my parents because my first job was being an at-home wife and mother. Catering was just a part-time thing that I did to get out of the house. I welcomed the hard but respectable work which enabled me to be part of people's weddings, barmitzvahs, anniversaries, etc. It turned out that I had a real knack for it, because I've spent most of my adult life (besides being a wife and mother) working in the catering business. Even operated a moderately successful business venture with a partner.

Never in my girlhood dreams did I think of being someone's Grandmother. Perhaps that is because I never really had living grandparents. My paternal Grandmother, the only survivor of the four, died when I was 10 and although she was loving and sweet, there was a language barrier between us. She could break this barrier with food because she was a marvelous cook. By the time she moved from Central California to Novato, she was already ill and elderly. I wonder if that is why I never envisioned myself as a grandmother. There are still times when I stare at the picture of my Grandmother, Maria Constance Mello Clementino, as a young bride and wonder if she ever thought about the legacy of women she would leave behind? In her eyes I see my daughter, Kate, and my cousin Jenni too. There is a definite resemblance through the mouth and eyes.

There is a vast different in terms of the two different generations: My grandmother went to the hen house, wrung the neck of a bird, dressed it and put it in a pot. My daughter, Katie, on the other hand, will not reach into the cavity of a commercially processed chicken purchased from the grocery store to remove the giblets. This cracks me up and I usually envision my grandmother and mother rolling over in their graves. I immediately picture Aunt Maria in a full apron, hands on hips, hair in a knot on top of her head and her crooked finger wagging...."You girls of today have it so easy!" And, of course, she was right!

So hear I am today, a resident in the not-so-new millennium and I have no misunderstandings about who I am. Regardless of who and what I "wanted" to be, I am first and foremost wife to my beloved, Dave. I am mother to Vanessa, Katharine, Matthew and Madelyn. I am mother-in-law to Brent and Frank and sister-in-law to Dale and Melody. I still love to sing and my love for animals has only grown as I mature past middle age and tuck my AARP card into my wallet. My Sunday table overflows with children, spouses and friends and my cup runnith over. The funny part is that of all the things I "dreamed" about being, a grandmother was never one of them. Yet as the days draw near to the birth of my first granddaughter, Lillanna Marie, my excitement grows. When I look into her eyes for the first time, who will I see? Her mother? My mother? My grandmother?

It is a powerful thing to watch the universe shift. The young people become old, the old generation moves on to join the Celestial family, and we are left with this remarkable family unit which continues to move forward and grow. Our family is a circle of love and strength. With every birth and union the circle grows stronger. Every joy shared adds more love. Every obstacle faced together makes the circle stronger. When I look at the faces around my Sunday table, I'm humbled and over-joyed.