CHRISTMAS IN BIRDLAND

IN BIRDLAND, CHRISTMAS MORNING IS A QUIET AFFAIR

WHEN I SEWED THAT FIRST STOCKING,
I CUT IT SMALL ON PURPOSE.

IN BIRDLAND, CHRISTMAS MORNING IS A QUIET AFFAIR. Gone are the days when small boys would pry us from the bed before daybreak, while we laughingly feigned a surprised sleepiness. Come to think of it, the sleepiness was authentic. This year Chandra is home from the West coast and Dylan has stayed over from town. Having my two oldest sons home for a little while is the best present I could hope for. They'll each sleep for a while longer. Even Ellis seems to have learned that whatever's under the tree will still be there if he sleeps in for a while longer. Following a long Christmas Eve tradition, the big boys helped my youngest write Santa's note (this year full of teenaged wit tinged with some helpful dietary advice) and lay out a platter of cookies and a glass of milk. I went to bed long before the low rumble of conversation and laughter stopped and the lights went out one by one.

SHE NEVER LETS ME LIE IN BED LONG

This morning I lay in bed for a little after waking, long enough that Ursula came in and damply nosed my hand. My dog must hear me stirring, or perhaps listen for a change in my breathing when I waken. She never lets me lie in bed long. She has ideas about frisbees and breakfast, but I have a date with a turkey and a 400 degree oven. I let Ursa out and grab half a cookie from the plate on the buffet. What's left of the cookies is mostly a crumbly mess. Santa has left his own response at the bottom of the boys' note—a bit petulant this year if you ask me (not that I blame him after that crack about his waistline).

HAVING MY SONS HOME IS THE BEST PRESENT I COULD WISH FOR

I see the stockings have been filled. When I sewed that first stocking over 30 years ago, I cut it small on purpose. To my mind, a stocking should hold an apple, an orange, a few nuts and chocolate treats, a toothbrush and dental floss, and maybe a small surprise. Some years I wish I'd cut it a little bigger, but mostly I think it's just right. I glance at the modest pile of presents under the tree. This year was a little lean, and I took the opportunity to go back to basics and be creative. Can there be anything more comforting a soft pack of fresh underwear and socks on Christmas morning? I also wrapped up some Lord of the Rings special edition DVD sets I got used, but like new, at our local computer repair shop. I labeled them “for the geeks in the house” and that could pretty much fit all of them. I thought we could have some family movie nights while my boys are here. I also knit a bunch of long scarves with leftover yarn. I put them in a basket to make a game of letting each one choose their own (an idea I stole from one of my knit and nurture friends). I am still hoping for inspiration to strike about the rules of that game, but I'm sure it will come. I go to the closet and pull out the five pairs of slippers I made as a last minute addition to the gift pile.

The pile under the tree is still modest and I am reminded of a Christmas at my mother's when my older boys were small. We were wrapping presents on Christmas Eve, and my mother was feeling a little down. Like most young grandmothers she wanted to give her grandkids fabulous presents and make “the best Christmas ever” for all of us. Looking at the humble collection of presents we were wrapping she thought she had failed us somehow. My sister came up with an idea to increase the number of presents under the tree to cheer my mother up. It started with the phone book. She wrapped it up in paper and put someone's name on it. When my mother wasn't looking, we would grab random items to wrap: a teapot, the scissors, a coffee mug, towels from the bathroom, a cookbook, my brother's glasses. The pile of presents grew until we ran out of wrapping paper. The counterfeit presents were mixed with the real ones, and the next morning these were first met with puzzled looks, then incredulous laughter. It really was “the best Christmas ever.”

I grind coffeebeans and begin cutting up bread, onions, celery, for stuffing the turkey. The house fills with the warm aroma of coffee and Michael joins me in the quiet morning to help with the turkey and wait for our boys to wake up.

Present Beauty; Receive Peace; Merry Christmas