We all seem to be living under the old Chinese curse that goes "May you live in interesting times." Amy and I have certainly been no exception. 2009 was an unusual year for a number of reasons. The United States inaugurated its first black president. Unemployment rose in record proportions. The American healthcare system changed in radical ways that even the politicians who made the change don't completely understand.
On a more personal level, Amy and I moved out of state for the first time since we've been married and I spent Christmas with my entire immediate family. The last time that happened it was still the 20th century. It was the Christmas of 1996 when my parents announced their decision to get a divorce and all five of us haven't been together for Christmas since. Through marriage or adoption that number has grown to eight of us; additions who are all warmly welcomed and deeply appreciated.
My parents have developed a cordial relationship. I was afraid that things would be awkward, but everything had an eggnog-like smoothness and sweetness. We're not drinkers, but my parent's new granddaughter seemed to serve as a good social lubricant for all of us. On Christmas Eve we sang carols together and read the Christmas story. My father played the piano for us, just as he used to when we were all much younger. Some of us voiced the opinion that we had - almost - picked up right where we had left off as a family.
Yesterday I remembered in an old place deep inside the primal joy that comes from the feel of the strong and yet fragile smoothness of wrapping paper on boxes full of treasures and delights, and the raw pleasure of tearing off the wrapping and finding surprises that may turn out to be only tokens, but give lasting satisfaction. It's strange how my parents turned out to be right about giving being a greater pleasure than getting as I've gotten older, but giving is pleasure stretched out over the month running from Thanksgiving to Christmas. The morning of Christmas is a time to receive, and it's still sweetly satisfying. Everyone managed to stay occupied and entertained throughout the day.
Amy and I had the pleasure of showing my Dad our new apartment home. We found a new appreciation for where we live, showing off the amenities of our brand new place, rediscovering each as we went. We shared the hot-tub with my sister Abby and my Dad; the first time Amy and I had ever shared it with anyone. We came out feeling as though we had just enjoyed a massage.
When we fell asleep last night we felt as though the world had a new shine on it that hadn't been there before, like an old car with it's "new car" smell restored.
Things are still imperfect. Our times will probably still continue to be interesting. I have chosen to take the liquory taste of gourmet chocolate, the warmth of a fire, the sounds of my father's piano-playing, and the smiles of my new niece as good omens for the year 2010.
-Tom
