Blue Christmas
iTunes moody playlists are sort of a chicken-and-egg thing for me. Like, am I brooding because I'm listening to broody songs*, or am I listening to broody songs because I'm brooding? It's probably a little bit of both. For some reason, Christmas always makes me feel very ambivalent. (Is that an oxymoron? "very ambivalent?" So be it.) It's kind of depressing, the way I go on autopilot and run around like the proverbial decapitated chicken trying to get things ready. Like it's a pass/fail thing, and once December 25th rolls around, Jesus is going to come around with his red pencil and grade me on how generous/mindful/uncommercial/whatever I've been this season. Jesus Claus, making His List and checking It twice. "Tsk, tsk, Ivy. You got your family's presents ready, but you did not get to church on Advent 1 OR 3. Where are your priorities? Have you no respect for Me on My birthday?"
Then again, when I am able to put my feelings of inadequacy aside and remember that Jebus is merciful and church is a nice thing we do because we enjoy it and not because we have to, I do very much enjoy the liturgical season of Advent. I think about Mary, who everybody forgets God very nicely asked if she wanted to be a part of that whole "give birth to my Son, God incarnate" thing. She could totally have said no. But she didn't. This was particularly poignant to me the year I found out two days before Christmas that I was pregnant with Grace-- we were newlyweds, living in Manhattan temporarily, with no health insurance or permanent jobs. It was a stupid time to get pregnant, and strictly speaking, I could have said no. But thank goodness, I didn't. Thinking about the story of Mary helped me get through it and get excited about it. Every year, I go back to that time a little bit, and marvel at that fulcrum in my life. That was a circumstantial pivot I was not expecting, nor would I have chosen it consciously, but I'm really glad it happened. Hence the name of this journal, I guess.
I think the theme I'm getting at here is "bittersweet." Christmas always highlights that concept for me. Not to be a preachy motherfucker or anything, but thematically, the season is bittersweet to me because I at once celebrate a birth and feel the pang of a death to come. Which, really, is not limited to Jesus or anything-- all of us are dying from the moment of our birth. I think about my kids, who will grow into petulant teenagers and then vibrant young adults and then settled older adults and will, eventually, and in a very long time I hope, grow old and die. They're young and wide-eyed right now, as I once was. I'm a young mother, hopeful and excited about life to come, as my mother once was. She's a grandmother to young children who she cherishes, but also learning to cope with and maybe even enjoy her nearly-empty nest, as her mother once was. And her mother died when Grace was a baby.
Grace says she misses Grandma Kirby a few times a month. I'm sure she doesn't remember her, but she seems to have some kind of emotional connection to an idea of her, anyway. I admire Grace in a lot of ways. She has a depth of feeling and understanding that is unusual for adults, let alone six year old children. I try not to indulge in too much child-worship since I know most people hate it when parents gush about their children, but I sincerely believe Grace is special, and not only because I'm her mother. She told me yesterday, "You believed me one time when I lied to you. I told you I had tried that food at Nana's house, when I really hadn't. I just didn't want to eat it. Do you not want to believe me anymore, now that you know I lied once?" I just hugged her.
Am I being maudlin? And if so, do you forgive me? I promise I'll be back to posting the results to my many internet personality tests next time!
*Gary Jules, "Mad World;" The Pretenders, "I Hurt You" (thanks to John for putting that one on a mix tape years back-- it's a favorite of mine now); Warren Haynes, "Beautifully Broken;" Team Sleep "Ataraxia;" Pinback, "Fortress;" Aimee Mann, "Save Me;" Talvin Singh, "Traveller;" Bonobo, "Noctuary;" Built To Spill, "Carry The Zero;" Cat Stevens, "Trouble;" Colin Hay, "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You;" Death Cab for Cutie, "I'll Follow You Into the Dark" AND MANY MORE! ORDER NOW! CHECK OR MONEY ORDER ONLY.
Then again, when I am able to put my feelings of inadequacy aside and remember that Jebus is merciful and church is a nice thing we do because we enjoy it and not because we have to, I do very much enjoy the liturgical season of Advent. I think about Mary, who everybody forgets God very nicely asked if she wanted to be a part of that whole "give birth to my Son, God incarnate" thing. She could totally have said no. But she didn't. This was particularly poignant to me the year I found out two days before Christmas that I was pregnant with Grace-- we were newlyweds, living in Manhattan temporarily, with no health insurance or permanent jobs. It was a stupid time to get pregnant, and strictly speaking, I could have said no. But thank goodness, I didn't. Thinking about the story of Mary helped me get through it and get excited about it. Every year, I go back to that time a little bit, and marvel at that fulcrum in my life. That was a circumstantial pivot I was not expecting, nor would I have chosen it consciously, but I'm really glad it happened. Hence the name of this journal, I guess.
I think the theme I'm getting at here is "bittersweet." Christmas always highlights that concept for me. Not to be a preachy motherfucker or anything, but thematically, the season is bittersweet to me because I at once celebrate a birth and feel the pang of a death to come. Which, really, is not limited to Jesus or anything-- all of us are dying from the moment of our birth. I think about my kids, who will grow into petulant teenagers and then vibrant young adults and then settled older adults and will, eventually, and in a very long time I hope, grow old and die. They're young and wide-eyed right now, as I once was. I'm a young mother, hopeful and excited about life to come, as my mother once was. She's a grandmother to young children who she cherishes, but also learning to cope with and maybe even enjoy her nearly-empty nest, as her mother once was. And her mother died when Grace was a baby.
Grace says she misses Grandma Kirby a few times a month. I'm sure she doesn't remember her, but she seems to have some kind of emotional connection to an idea of her, anyway. I admire Grace in a lot of ways. She has a depth of feeling and understanding that is unusual for adults, let alone six year old children. I try not to indulge in too much child-worship since I know most people hate it when parents gush about their children, but I sincerely believe Grace is special, and not only because I'm her mother. She told me yesterday, "You believed me one time when I lied to you. I told you I had tried that food at Nana's house, when I really hadn't. I just didn't want to eat it. Do you not want to believe me anymore, now that you know I lied once?" I just hugged her.
Am I being maudlin? And if so, do you forgive me? I promise I'll be back to posting the results to my many internet personality tests next time!
*Gary Jules, "Mad World;" The Pretenders, "I Hurt You" (thanks to John for putting that one on a mix tape years back-- it's a favorite of mine now); Warren Haynes, "Beautifully Broken;" Team Sleep "Ataraxia;" Pinback, "Fortress;" Aimee Mann, "Save Me;" Talvin Singh, "Traveller;" Bonobo, "Noctuary;" Built To Spill, "Carry The Zero;" Cat Stevens, "Trouble;" Colin Hay, "I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You;" Death Cab for Cutie, "I'll Follow You Into the Dark" AND MANY MORE! ORDER NOW! CHECK OR MONEY ORDER ONLY.