Kim Priore

So here I am at the end of my extended Thanksgiving break (thank you, American Academy of Religion!) wondering how on earth I managed to get so little done with so much time off.  Things I did not get done include: grading all of my students’ papers, starting research for a paper that’s due in 2 weeks, mailing Shannon’s birthday present (tomorrow, I PROMISE!), any Christmas shopping at all, any cleaning at all (except cleaning the guest room, which as it turned out, was unnecessary).  Things that did get done include: spending a lot of time with family and friends, laughing a lot, crying a bit, celebrating a new marriage, eating a lot. 

The holidays are definitely going to be different this year.  Thanksgiving was no exception, but it was made infinitely more bearable by the presence of my beloved godsons, and by new additions to our table.  Nevertheless the empty seats were noticeable, and the distance and the loss deeply felt.  My brother’s blog post (http://trackdougandmandy.blogspot.com/) asked us, whose hands are you thankful for?  I too am thankful for our grandmothers’ hands, which served us so lovingly all those years, and for my mother’s, which still do.  I’m thankful for my dad’s, the hands that stubbornly refuse to be slowed by disease and whose roughness makes them no less gentle.  I’m thankful for my brother’s hands, as they hold the drumsticks and lead people into the presence of God.  I miss my sister-in-law’s hands beside me in the kitchen doing dishes after a family dinner, because they make the workload so much lighter and more enjoyable.

Looking ahead to Christmas, I know that it too will be different this year.  There won’t be the usual explosion of decorations at the Priore house, and well, the Hershey’s kisses wrappers will just have to lay bare on the floor without the tree to camouflage them.  But in thinking about it, it hit me that we always look at Christmas and the Incarnation from our perspective, love, peace, good will to men (and women) etc.  We seldom think about it from Jesus’ perspective.  For him it was a time of uncertainty, of discomfort in new and unfamiliar surroundings, and of intense separation from the Father whom he loved.  So I guess I’m going to try and make that my focus this year.  We always say that it’s not about the commercial, glitzy aspect of Christmas but about the “real meaning.”  And yet every year we get caught up in the busy-ness and forget the raw poverty and humanity of the first Christmas Eve.  But for once I guess I’m able to identify just a little better with that side of things.

On a much lighter note, I certainly would have gone off the deep end by now if it weren’t for friends who keep me sane (or insane, depending on how you look at it).  So for the dancing (both the wedding-related and Irish jig varieties), the witty text messages, the Best Guiness in Boston, Funny McLaugh-ersons (you know who you are), the church commentary over Chinese food, the Nog-drinking, the Grey’s-watching, and all other forms of amusement and sanity maintenance, I am deeply, profoundly, and infinitely grateful. 

One exciting feature of my social whirlwind break was attending a 90th birthday party for my grandmother’s best friend. I know, you’re jealous, I get invited to the best functions, it’s just part of being on the A-list.  But it was a great celebration of this woman’s life, put on by her friends and family.  They read messages from all over the country from people who couldn’t be there but wanted to share messages to, and memories of, Grace.  And it’s funny but none of these messages were all, Congratulations Grace on 90 years of life, and all that stuff you accumulated, all those things you accomplished, all those good grades you got.  People’s memories centered on happy times in Grace’s kitchen, holidays and family gatherings and cousins playing football.  So when we get to be 90, and we’re legally blind, and arthritic, and wearing the same outfit to our 90th birthday party that we’re wearing in pictures from our 80th (and who besides me is catty enough to notice that?) – we may not remember the things that we did or didn’t accomplish in the world’s eyes, but we’ll remember that we ate and laughed until our sides hurt and we weren’t sure from which.  So in that respect, I figure, it was a holiday break well spent.  Bring on the end of the semester.