Holiday Rituals

I have many fond memories of holidays - Thanksgiving and Christmas especially. Halloween never really meant much to me. Sure, I'd go trick or treating in a homemade 'gypsy' costume made each year from leftover clothes I found in my mom's closet. Halloween ended abruptly for me when I was 11; not due to my age so much as to my height - I was already 5'7" and when adults opened the door I was told I was "too old" and should leave the candy for the young kids. I haven't worn a costume since 1973.

The remaining holidays - Valentine's, Easter, 4th of July, Labor Day - never held any significance in our family. No rituals surrounded these dates except for the ritual of laziness. Having a Monday, Friday or day during the week off was holiday enough - no need for extra celebration.

But Thanksgiving and Christmas held specific rituals and importance in our family. Both of these holidays were equally shared between my parent's families; down to the time of eating, raisins in the stuffing (only on my mom's side), prayers said, games played, naps taken.

I've always been fond of rituals, which is probably why I enjoyed attending Catholic Mass for so many years - until I realized the ritual of Mass and the ritual of Eucharist wasn't enough to sustain my participation. Holiday rituals are important and I believe a vital component of a child's upbringing. Rituals form memories and memories are one of building blocks of a healthy mental attitude. Betsy Taylor states “Rituals give kids a sense of security in a fast-moving, unpredictable world, as well as memories they will cherish a lifetime.”

The holiday rituals our family celebrated formed memories for me that I reflect on, especially during this time of the year. Though my childhood sometimes had more 'downs' then 'ups' it is the memory of the many family gatherings I cherish and remember the most.

My son recently turned 20 and we just celebrated Thanksgiving together - it was our 5th Thanksgiving together. My ex-husband and I divorced when our son was 3 and for the next 15 years the two of them celebrated turkey day with my ex's family. Since starting college in Minnesota two years ago, my son now joins us for Thanksgiving. Throughout his first 18 years, the three of us celebrated Christmas together and enjoyed the ritual of Christmas Eve church service, my son and I sitting next to each other in a pew singing along with the choir, which his dad still sings in. We then would go to my home for a relaxing Christmas Eve dinner while our son anxiously waited to open his presents. Oftentimes we drove around the neighborhood looking at all the beautiful and colorful holiday lights. These are our son's memories; our son's rituals. Though our son is a product of divorce, we came together as a family at Christmas (along with sporting events, school activities, choir concerts, doctor appointments...).

My son was here for Thanksgiving weekend but I won't see him until January. In a few weeks after finishing finals, he'll travel west 600 miles to his dad's home and spend the Christmas holiday. I'll miss him on Christmas; miss his excitement in opening gifts; in digging into homemade chex mix; in giving me a warm hug. But I know where he'll be on Christmas Eve...sitting in a church pew, singing carols while his father is in the choir on stage. After church, they'll go home and have something nice to eat and open gifts. Though the three of us may not be together this year, I know the holiday ritual we started 20 years ago still continues.

Thankfulness

Why is it, around the time of Thanksgiving and the holidays, when we reflect on all we are thankful for? Whenever I check my Facebook account lately, every few status updates starts with "I am thankful for...". Now I am not implying that this is wrong, untimely or inappropriate.

Quite the contrary. I'm simply questioning why we, as participants in society, aren't thankful and show our thankfulness...our appreciation...our gratitude to those around us every day?

One of the personality qualities, or rather deficits, I deplore is rudeness. Rudeness for not saying 'thank you', even for the simplest of gifts or offerings that others give us. When I started kindergarten, my mother sent me off to school every day saying, "make sure you say please and thank you to your teacher and the lunch ladies". I always did, and the lunch ladies always smiled gently at me whenever I thanked them. I grew up in the generation where we revered those adults that taught us, served us, preached to us, guided us. I grew up in the generation where I learned to appreciate the small things people did for me, the small presents I received. For in my childhood, these were the things that meant the most. And they still are.

I sometimes forget to be grateful, to be thankful. It's not out of rudeness, but rather unawareness, not being present with the here and now. Not paying attention to those things another has done for me, or others.

I am present today; am present now; and I am thankful...and to all who I have not shown or communicated my gratitude and appreciation, thank you. Thank you.

Lipstick Whore

Okay, I admit to being full-on girl. I like to wear make-up, jewelry, nice clothes, have my nails done, my hair colored and change purses (usually weekly). My biggest obsession? Make-up, specifically lipstick.

Can a girl really ever have too much make-up? Perhaps. My first foray into cosmetics was at the age of 11. My mother, finally, after much pleading, or perhaps exhaustion from constant nagging, allowed me to purchase eyeshadow and lip gloss. I was so excited. I took some hard earned babysitting money, went to the neighborhood drug store and quickly bought cream eyeshadow in a green that looked like forest moss and lip gloss resembling (and tasting) a bit like strawberry jelly. I was in heaven. When I put my finger in the small pots the first time I felt like I was a painter, nervously and carefully placing my index finger with the green goop on my eyelid, making sure to 'stay within the lines' and not make too much of a mess. Today, with an ever steady hand and many more steps in the process, I apply make-up with almost perfect precision and can put on a 'full face' in less than 5 minutes.

I love everything there is about cosmetics - the wide range of colors, especially for lips, eyes and nails (who knew GREEN would ever touch a fingernail?), the shimmer effects of purple eyeshadow, the new high-definition foundation (just purchased). Last count, I own approximately 50 tubes of lipstick/gloss. My brand favorites are from Chanel, OPI and MAC. The varying hues of red are my favorite though the color range is broad from the faintest nude (usually worn on the weekends when I wear the least make-up) to an almost black red, when I'm feeling a bit more dramatic. Sephora and Ulta are like candy stores to me, the Chanel and MAC counters at Macy's on Michigan Avenue in Chicago have me on their mailing list, and I receive weekly emails from Estee Lauder. My bathroom drawers and linen closet are filled with a wide range of brands and products...girlfriends who visit me know exactly where to go for their 'touch-up' and help themselves to my own personal make-up counter. And it is well organized with lipsticks in their own holders organized by brand, eye shadows and liners in a plastic file drawer, perfumes occupy two plastic lazy susans and cleansing products in one drawer.

I don't even want to think of the amount of money I have spent on cosmetics over the past 30+ years - probably enough to purchase a very nice new automobile - not a Mercedes, but perhaps a Ford Focus. Oh well, the money could have gone to far worse habits....like smoking or gambling.

My mother never wore much make-up, she didn't need to. Mom had a beautiful complexion, and great features...but she always wore lipstick. I have aptly followed suit and never leave home without lipstick on, often reapplying over the length of the day.

I have to admit I'm a bit envious of women who wear little, if any, make-up and look fresh and fabulous. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to wear foundation to cover my acne scars and sun damage (too much of a sun bunny in my teens), or put mascara on to make me look a bit more awake. But there is one thing I won't give up...that's right, lipstick.

Trying to Find the News

My first entree into marketing and advertising was working for the Rapid City Journal (RCJ) (http://www.rapidcityjournal.com) in Rapid City, South Dakota as an advertising representative. One of the 'perks' was daily delivery, free of charge, of the newspaper. I have always been an ardent reader and took time each day to read the paper. Though the RCJ is not the size of a major city newspaper, it does a fairly decent job of covering national and local news interspersed with major world news. In addition to reading the daily paper, I also watched the nightly news, priding myself on having a basic knowledge of world and political affairs, who won the Monday night football game, and what the weather was going to be like on the weekend.

Fast forward 20 years and I am news-challenged. Yes, I know we have military in Iraq and Afghanistan; the MN Vikings have a 7-1 record; the NY Yankees won the World Series (and I'm not even a bonafide sports fan!); Hillary Clinton is the Secretary of State; and it's going to be in the 50s this week weather-wise. What have I missed? A lot it seems. I missed the great tragedy at Ft. Hood, TX last week of the mindless massacre of 13 innocent people (plus injured) until my son told me this past weekend. I have not kept up with the healthcare debate now moving to the Senate nor do I understand the potential current and future impact on my family's healthcare coverage. I forgot that tomorrow is Veteran's Day. I didn't know we had a city election last week or worse yet, who was running and what referendums were up for a vote. Even writing this makes me anxietous. Perhaps too much news causes me too much stress.

Most people who know me may be surprised to find that I am not keeping up with current events and instead am living in a world occupied by information via such random social media as twitter, facebook, hotmail, outlook, google and bing. Thank gosh I receive, via email, headlines each day from bing news (http://www.bing.com/) though the headlines consist of only 5 to 6 random national news stories. I do subscribe to the Sunday edition of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, and though I feel it lacks hard hitting editorial news (they recently announced the cutting of 100 staff members; 30 in the newsroom), at least I know what the Target promotions are for the week and can get my weekly dose of $0.50 off Pringle and Dove chocolate coupons.

I seem much calmer lately...thank God for Pringles and dark chocolate.

Transitions

For the past 9 years I have been going to school and working full-time. After the first year of working and going to school I got into a rhythm, sometimes with much effort, where my life was dictated, not by my choices, but rather by the due dates of papers, exams, work responsibilities along with mom responsibilities. Sometimes I felt I had no 'me' time; no time to do those things I wanted to do like write more, read more 'fun' books (not textbooks), take an art class, really get into a television series, spend more time with family and friends.

During the last year of graduate school my thoughts often strayed to the transition from full-time work and school to just full-time work. What would I do with the 'extra' time? What were my weekends going to be like since I wouldn't be speed reading hundreds of pages, writing a 2o-page paper or interning at an academic library? My mind traveled through an encyclopedia of choices, which at times felt very foreign to me. All of a sudden, in August of this year, I would be done with graduate school. Done with school. Forever. I think. Really? Instead of feeling elated and relieved, feelings of sadness and grief and even a bit of anxiety started creeping into my psyche.

Some people are ecstatic when they finish their academic career - be it high school, trade school or college. Me...I love school. I love to learn, to be educated, and all things connected - yes, that even means researching and writing papers, reading textbooks that at times make you want to take a long nap, and preparing for exams that cause you to lose sleep wondering if you passed. I've always liked school. So am I REALLY done with school? Perhaps in the 'formal' sense, yes. I've had to finance every credit, book, and pencil of my college education and unfortunately simply cannot afford to pursue a PhD. Maybe one day I can start again, but I'm on a break and it may be a permanent break from college.

While contemplating what I would do after graduating this summer, my thoughts went to creative pursuits. I've always wanted to write more. After taking a couple of writing workshops on memoir I desire to take a deep dive into this writing genre but feel I wasn't ready in the fall after completing a heavy year of coursework writing. Woodworking? No - I have a fear of power tools. Beer making? Interesting, but I'm not a big beer drinker. Salsa Dancing? Though I admit I need to exercise, stumbling over my feet and flying on the floor doesn't sound very fun - especially in front of a group of people. Painting? Mmmmm. My aunt S. is an oil painter and does beautiful work. Maybe genetically some talent would pass down to me. I registered at the Hopkins Community Center for 'Acrylic Painting' in September. Cost: $80. Experience needed: None. Supplies: small list; low cost. Done.

Little did I know that a 2-1/2 hour weekly class (with a net cost of $10/week) is worth 4 sessions with a therapist (at $120/hr). Not only have I learned painting and color techniques (who knew you could make a myriad of colors with only 4 tubes of paint?), but I've also learned to let myself go artistically, let myself make mistakes, let my feelings and emotions flow on canvas, let myself relax. With one week left, I am already missing my Monday evening painting class. Lucky for me, registration for winter quarter starts soon.

This week I finished my first painting - an impressionistic landscape titled "Prairie Horizon". My painting instructor wants me to put the painting in the Potpourri show starting in December. I think I will. I started my second painting and am already thinking of future ideas. I have learned much during the 8-week class and tonight purchased a couple of books on painting techniques and tricks. I can't wait to read them.

I may be done with college; but I am never done learning.