Thanksgiving, Canadian style
This has been a strange and emotional couple of days! Good, overall -- although part of me is surprised I can say that -- but, well, I had less than four hours of sleep last night, and that level of sleep deprivation always makes me emotional and sentimental. (It’s a bit like I remember PMS being. I never got rage or depression; I got “reading OTT wangst fanfic while marveling that there were actual tears running down my face.”)
Thanksgiving is tomorrow, but it’s a smaller holiday up here than the corresponding holiday is in the States, so most people who have to travel any distance celebrate on the weekend rather than taking off part of the week. Geoff and I, plus Geoff’s mother and son, drove two hours each way yesterday to have midday Thanksgiving dinner at the home of Geoff’s younger sister and her husband and kids. The gathering was the usual combination of good food and warm family vibes and utter cacophony; Geoff’s family are lovely people who have never quite come around to the idea that they should be looking at the person they’re talking to rather than yelling randomly without even checking that the person is in the room. And my brother-in-law spent a while trying to tell me that Trump is obnoxious and all, but not so bad, really, whereas Hillary* is so corrupt -- fortunately others shouted the conversation down before steam actually exploded out my ears. (And then when we were leaving he thought it would be funny to tease me about voting for DT. SO FUNNY.) My thanks to the people who listened to me surreptitiously rant on Twitter! I also really liked a friend of my sister-in-law’s who was invited for the gathering, so that was a nice plus.
[* I hate the way he gets surnamed while she so often gets first-named. I mean, some of it is from the please-god-we’ll-be-able-to-call-it-the-first Clinton presidency, when she had to be “Hillary” because Bill was already “Clinton.” But I try really hard to break that habit, because ARGH.]
Once home again, we watched the first episode of the third season of Orange Is the New Black before going to bed; that’s pretty much the only thing I’m currently watching in any kind of consistent or fannish way, and we’re both hooked. I love all the characters, even the ones I don't like, if you see what I mean. I like the way it’s structured, giving us irregular looks at the backgrounds and families of each character. I’m interested that the show hasn’t chosen to depict anybody who has been wrongfully convicted, and I wonder if that will happen later, or if they’ll avoid the possibility throughout (DON’T TELL ME! This is a spoiler-free zone). And I’m somewhat depressed that nobody seems to come from a healthy, functional background; so far, the best candidate for that seems to be Poussey. Some aspects of it are getting a little over the top; like, I get that they wanted to bring Alex back, but good grief. Still, I both enjoy it and am sometimes genuinely moved by it. The end of that season premiere was wrenching.
Unrelated stress gave me wicked insomnia last night, on top of which Geoff’s other sister was going to be phoning us at 4:45 a.m. to let us know she would imminently arrive at our door, because we live fifteen minutes from the airport and she was flying down to Florida this morning to help their brother and his husband bring their triplets up to Montreal for a visit. The airline won’t let infants fly with less than one adult to each, and the dads are outnumbered three to two! So sis-in-law 2 was leaving her car at our place and Geoff was going to drive her to the airport at five a.m. to catch her plane, and she’ll fly back with them on Wednesday. At a little before two a.m. I thought about taking a sleeping pill, but I decided that I’d rather be a wreck this afternoon than sleep late and not be able to go to church. Hence the less than four hours of sleep!
It was the right call. I did eventually drop off (and had another hilariously obvious stress dream; my subconscious, she is not subtle), and Geoff managed to get his sister to the airport and get home safely again, despite not having had much sleep himself. And I’m glad I made it to church. I had some really good moments with people -- including a make-my-day conversation in which someone I don’t know well but whom I like asked how I was doing, said very kind things about the little I told her about ongoing stress, and then told me she’d really like to spend some time with me and get to know me better, give her a call and we’ll meet for coffee or something! I also helped greet people and take collection, both of which I like doing -- especially greeting. I need to sign up officially to do that again; I used to do it pretty regularly, but then I got involved in other aspects of church infrastructure (lay chaplaincy, governance) and let it slide.
The minister’s sermon was built around a fascinating-sounding book called Amazing Chesed (our theme for this month is “grace,” which is not a topic that normally comes up much in either UU contexts or most Jewish contexts -- our minister is from a Jewish background, as of course am I), and I found much of it really moving. Okay, maybe the sleep-debt emotionality helped, but I was glad to be there, to hear what she said (and make a note to maybe look up the book), and sing, and light a couple of candles, and have some quiet time to -- not “think about,” exactly, but sit withthe latest stressful situation, and wait to see how I feel I should respond to it.
Our director of religious exploration, who is fabulous and energetic and at least fannish-adjacent, does the “Time for All Ages” (children’s bit) early in every service, before the kids go downstairs for the RE program if they (or their parents) would rather do that then stay in grownup service, and today she talked about saying grace at meals, and being thankful, and what if there were a superhero whose superpower was gratitude? Whereupon in charged one of the RE workers with a red cape and a giant T emblem on her chest; it was Captain Thank-You! And she struck heroic poses and blew kisses to the crowd while the DRE taught everybody Captain Thank-You’s theme song (to the tune of the Superman theme: “Thank you, earrrrrth, for making us foooooood!”) It was hilarious, and now I have that damn theme song stuck in my head.
Also, the minister had emailed me early in the week to ask whether I could do a memorial service on Saturday, and I said well, I could, but it would mean bailing on the in-law Thanksgiving gathering, but I would do that if necessary! But she said not to worry, she’d do it herself. I felt a bit bad about that; it’s really the lay chaplains’ job to do services for people who aren’t members of the congregation, the minister has eighty bazillion other things to do. But of course she can if she wants! And I was glad to have been able to have the day with Geoff’s family. Still, though, I had a creeping awareness that I’d sort of dumped it on her, or at least gone along with letting her dump it on herself. But this morning I asked her how it went, and she said it was amazing, the family and the music and how it all came together, and she was very glad she’d done it, she’d already had a good connection with the family (when they first called to ask for an officiant, I gather) and it had been a wonderful experience. So then I didn’t need to feel guilty any more! Plus she told me the circumstances of the person’s death, which were ones I’ve never dealt with and would have found a challenge; I mean, I would have risen to it, but it would have been somewhat heavy weather for me. So I asked her to share her text with me, so I’d have it as a model and resource in the future, and she emailed it to me before she even left the building. (I’ve been thinking lately about what I want to do with my time, talents, energy, etc. once my term as lay chaplain is over, and one of the things I’ve been thinking about is that there’s a palliative care residence a fifteen-minute walk from our house, whose website suggests that they’re always glad of volunteers for everything from pastoral visits to kitchen help to laundry service. So I’m holding that as a possibility, though I’m definitely more interested in the first two than the third.)
I desperately needed coffee by the time service ended, but I spent so much time talking to people that it was all gone before I got any! But someone went to make another pot, hallelujah. But then I got talking to a couple with an utterly adorably eight-month-old baby girl, whom I got to dandle and who very carefully and studiously manipulated and chewed on my name badge for fifteen minutes, by which time all the coffee was gone again. Aiee! But then someone else made another pot, and I got my hit.
When I finally left the church, I went down to a local market to buy more coffee beans and browse some produce, and then rather than take the highway all the way home I took a longer, slower route along the canal. The landward side is rather industrial, but the canal is a lovely green linear park for much of the way, and the trees are turning colors. When I got home, Geoff and I went for a walk down to our local grocery store to buy what we needed for making pizza tonight, and now I’m polishing up this blog post.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. May we all have plenty to be thankful for.
read
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Thanksgiving is tomorrow, but it’s a smaller holiday up here than the corresponding holiday is in the States, so most people who have to travel any distance celebrate on the weekend rather than taking off part of the week. Geoff and I, plus Geoff’s mother and son, drove two hours each way yesterday to have midday Thanksgiving dinner at the home of Geoff’s younger sister and her husband and kids. The gathering was the usual combination of good food and warm family vibes and utter cacophony; Geoff’s family are lovely people who have never quite come around to the idea that they should be looking at the person they’re talking to rather than yelling randomly without even checking that the person is in the room. And my brother-in-law spent a while trying to tell me that Trump is obnoxious and all, but not so bad, really, whereas Hillary* is so corrupt -- fortunately others shouted the conversation down before steam actually exploded out my ears. (And then when we were leaving he thought it would be funny to tease me about voting for DT. SO FUNNY.) My thanks to the people who listened to me surreptitiously rant on Twitter! I also really liked a friend of my sister-in-law’s who was invited for the gathering, so that was a nice plus.
[* I hate the way he gets surnamed while she so often gets first-named. I mean, some of it is from the please-god-we’ll-be-able-to-call-it-the-first Clinton presidency, when she had to be “Hillary” because Bill was already “Clinton.” But I try really hard to break that habit, because ARGH.]
Once home again, we watched the first episode of the third season of Orange Is the New Black before going to bed; that’s pretty much the only thing I’m currently watching in any kind of consistent or fannish way, and we’re both hooked. I love all the characters, even the ones I don't like, if you see what I mean. I like the way it’s structured, giving us irregular looks at the backgrounds and families of each character. I’m interested that the show hasn’t chosen to depict anybody who has been wrongfully convicted, and I wonder if that will happen later, or if they’ll avoid the possibility throughout (DON’T TELL ME! This is a spoiler-free zone). And I’m somewhat depressed that nobody seems to come from a healthy, functional background; so far, the best candidate for that seems to be Poussey. Some aspects of it are getting a little over the top; like, I get that they wanted to bring Alex back, but good grief. Still, I both enjoy it and am sometimes genuinely moved by it. The end of that season premiere was wrenching.
Unrelated stress gave me wicked insomnia last night, on top of which Geoff’s other sister was going to be phoning us at 4:45 a.m. to let us know she would imminently arrive at our door, because we live fifteen minutes from the airport and she was flying down to Florida this morning to help their brother and his husband bring their triplets up to Montreal for a visit. The airline won’t let infants fly with less than one adult to each, and the dads are outnumbered three to two! So sis-in-law 2 was leaving her car at our place and Geoff was going to drive her to the airport at five a.m. to catch her plane, and she’ll fly back with them on Wednesday. At a little before two a.m. I thought about taking a sleeping pill, but I decided that I’d rather be a wreck this afternoon than sleep late and not be able to go to church. Hence the less than four hours of sleep!
It was the right call. I did eventually drop off (and had another hilariously obvious stress dream; my subconscious, she is not subtle), and Geoff managed to get his sister to the airport and get home safely again, despite not having had much sleep himself. And I’m glad I made it to church. I had some really good moments with people -- including a make-my-day conversation in which someone I don’t know well but whom I like asked how I was doing, said very kind things about the little I told her about ongoing stress, and then told me she’d really like to spend some time with me and get to know me better, give her a call and we’ll meet for coffee or something! I also helped greet people and take collection, both of which I like doing -- especially greeting. I need to sign up officially to do that again; I used to do it pretty regularly, but then I got involved in other aspects of church infrastructure (lay chaplaincy, governance) and let it slide.
The minister’s sermon was built around a fascinating-sounding book called Amazing Chesed (our theme for this month is “grace,” which is not a topic that normally comes up much in either UU contexts or most Jewish contexts -- our minister is from a Jewish background, as of course am I), and I found much of it really moving. Okay, maybe the sleep-debt emotionality helped, but I was glad to be there, to hear what she said (and make a note to maybe look up the book), and sing, and light a couple of candles, and have some quiet time to -- not “think about,” exactly, but sit withthe latest stressful situation, and wait to see how I feel I should respond to it.
Our director of religious exploration, who is fabulous and energetic and at least fannish-adjacent, does the “Time for All Ages” (children’s bit) early in every service, before the kids go downstairs for the RE program if they (or their parents) would rather do that then stay in grownup service, and today she talked about saying grace at meals, and being thankful, and what if there were a superhero whose superpower was gratitude? Whereupon in charged one of the RE workers with a red cape and a giant T emblem on her chest; it was Captain Thank-You! And she struck heroic poses and blew kisses to the crowd while the DRE taught everybody Captain Thank-You’s theme song (to the tune of the Superman theme: “Thank you, earrrrrth, for making us foooooood!”) It was hilarious, and now I have that damn theme song stuck in my head.
Also, the minister had emailed me early in the week to ask whether I could do a memorial service on Saturday, and I said well, I could, but it would mean bailing on the in-law Thanksgiving gathering, but I would do that if necessary! But she said not to worry, she’d do it herself. I felt a bit bad about that; it’s really the lay chaplains’ job to do services for people who aren’t members of the congregation, the minister has eighty bazillion other things to do. But of course she can if she wants! And I was glad to have been able to have the day with Geoff’s family. Still, though, I had a creeping awareness that I’d sort of dumped it on her, or at least gone along with letting her dump it on herself. But this morning I asked her how it went, and she said it was amazing, the family and the music and how it all came together, and she was very glad she’d done it, she’d already had a good connection with the family (when they first called to ask for an officiant, I gather) and it had been a wonderful experience. So then I didn’t need to feel guilty any more! Plus she told me the circumstances of the person’s death, which were ones I’ve never dealt with and would have found a challenge; I mean, I would have risen to it, but it would have been somewhat heavy weather for me. So I asked her to share her text with me, so I’d have it as a model and resource in the future, and she emailed it to me before she even left the building. (I’ve been thinking lately about what I want to do with my time, talents, energy, etc. once my term as lay chaplain is over, and one of the things I’ve been thinking about is that there’s a palliative care residence a fifteen-minute walk from our house, whose website suggests that they’re always glad of volunteers for everything from pastoral visits to kitchen help to laundry service. So I’m holding that as a possibility, though I’m definitely more interested in the first two than the third.)
I desperately needed coffee by the time service ended, but I spent so much time talking to people that it was all gone before I got any! But someone went to make another pot, hallelujah. But then I got talking to a couple with an utterly adorably eight-month-old baby girl, whom I got to dandle and who very carefully and studiously manipulated and chewed on my name badge for fifteen minutes, by which time all the coffee was gone again. Aiee! But then someone else made another pot, and I got my hit.
When I finally left the church, I went down to a local market to buy more coffee beans and browse some produce, and then rather than take the highway all the way home I took a longer, slower route along the canal. The landward side is rather industrial, but the canal is a lovely green linear park for much of the way, and the trees are turning colors. When I got home, Geoff and I went for a walk down to our local grocery store to buy what we needed for making pizza tonight, and now I’m polishing up this blog post.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. May we all have plenty to be thankful for.
read
comments | post a comment at Dreamwidth
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