SETTLING DOWN TO JUST LIVING

                                               

I’ve dismantled the tree . . . and feel like I can settle down to just living again and enjoying my gifts and memories of a very happy Christmas to which you added a great deal. – Ina Dobson to son Vance, New Year’s Day, 1938

Yes, it’s time to settle down to just living again, but we can enjoy our gifts and memories of what was hopefully a very happy Christmas.

Grandpa Portfors, Christmas 1956

Sometimes Christmas isn’t so happy for whatever reason – or no reason at all. And if that’s the case, we still have to move on with hope and grace. On Christmas Eve 1971, my grandfather Charlie Portfors passed on. He was 96 and had been bedridden for years. We knew the end was near, but the end had been near for so many years that we just accepted his passing as a fact of the future, I guess. My mother, already worn out from her Christmas doings, took it hard.

Anyway, a neighbor came across the alley to the back door with a molded Jello salad and expressed condolences. Such a nice gesture. As if it wasn’t hard enough that Grandpa had died, a few days later, my dad’s sister Myrtle also died. The same neighbor appeared at the back door. “You folks are really going through it. Could you use another salad,” she asked, as she handed it to me. I still remember it – lime Jello with pineapple, shredded carrots and cabbage.

That Christmas was difficult in other ways, too. I had finished my university studies but had absolutely no prospects for the future. My best childhood friend was getting married and as far I was concerned, living the dream.

And then there was the Christmas of 1977. My first baby was due Christmas Day, but he didn’t come until the 30^th. It wasn’t a sad Christmas, but it was hard nevertheless.

But as Christmas comes each year, I don’t lament those of the past. I try to celebrate each one on its own merits and for what Christmas should mean to the world. KW