Christmas Letter
2010
December 16, 2010
Merry Christmas form Marion Station.
While I neglect the shopping, the
bills, unreturned calls and
unanswered emails, there’s a magical
scene outside my office window. The
first snow of the winter (in a place
where it rarely snows) covers the
magnolia and crepe myrtles. Beyond
them the grass, the road, the
mailboxes and the telephone wires
all have a layer of snow covering up
any harsh imperfections. Though
there’s only a sliver of daylight
left, a few juncos are still
flitting in and out of the bare
branches of the pecan trees, and
these thick flakes falling from the
sky at twilight generate a sense of
urgency in me to celebrate Christmas
and remember all those who make our
lives so rich.
Snowy scenes like this move me to
remember … good times, winters past,
friends and family, those no longer
with us to celebrate, my little
children playing in the snow, my
grandchildren talking of Santa, and
Christmas music that subtly plays in
the background – music on which all
the memories rest. Just as snow
covers up all the imperfections in
the landscape, Christmas paints our
past with memories of everything
we’ve ever loved. Our Christmas card
this year has a photo I took in
Crisfield during last December’s
snowstorm. It’s a crab shanty in a
place known as Ape’s Hole located on
the Pocomoke Sound. It’s a along an
old dirt road traveled only by the
owners of the shanties and nosey
people like me who want to take in
humble scenery uninterrupted by too
many things man-made. It’s a barren
place. It’s a thin place.
This year was an exciting year for travel. Dan and I sold
our pop-up and bought a new teardrop
style camper (with a bathroom,
furnace and air-conditioner) so we
could extend those trips we love to
take into the less temperate months.
We enjoyed short trips this year to
Cherrystone, Swallow Falls, and
Charlottesville. In the summer we
spent two days in Salem, MA scoping
out history and all things “witchy.”
We camped on Winter Island next to
an old WWII airplane hanger with
views of Salem harbor, Marblehead
and the Winter Island lighthouse. We
camped right next to a witch-fortune
teller who had her own UPS-style
truck (painted psychedelic blue)
with a fortune-telling office and
card reading table inside. It also
had a sofa, a chair, coffee table
and twinkling lights laid out on top
of the truck - living-room style -
for evening conversations,
complimented by speakers that played
soothing, new-agey music. One
accessed the truck-top terrace via a
built-in ladder on the back. It kind
of reminded me of an artsy Beverly
Hillbillies truck. The morning of
our last day there, she packed
everything inside and drove away.
The Salem waterfront was beautiful,
the museums remarkable and seafood
fabulous. One night we went on a
ghost tour. I asked the tour guide
what people in Salem do for fun. She
said, “They go to Boston.” She
continued that the town was cursed
and all who move to Salem become
miserable and then circumstances
beyond their control will never
allow them to leave. This compelled
us to permanently cross this town
off our list as a consideration for
a retirement location.
After Salem we came into Dan’s home
state of Maine and we met up with my
cousin Katie and her partner Robin.
They live in a log cabin on lots of
acreage in Sidney near Augusta. From
there we loaded up our twin Subaru
Foresters and headed for the North
Woods where the roads are unpaved,
privately owned and there is no
electricity or cell phone towers.
For four days we camped on the north
banks of Moosehead Lake with our
campsite right on the shore. The
campground was at the end of a
35-mile dirt road – north of
Rockwood. Generators were flipped on
at mealtimes only. All other times,
campers roughed it without
electricity, cell phones or the
Internet. The wild scenery was worth
all the lack of creature comforts.
Wildlife was abundant, and landscape
nearly untouched. What I noticed
most was the sound of quiet, except
the occasional boat or seaplane. I
asked the campground owners what
they did when they wanted to see a
movie. They laughed and said, “We
wait until we go to Florida for the
winter.” Dan taught Katie to fly
fish and the three of them fished
and fished and fished. What did I
do? I talked to anyone who would
listen, wrote a lot of notes, and
took about a thousand photographs.
What fun it was to spend time with
my childhood soul-friend, Katie.
Though we’d only seen each other
once in the last twenty years, it
was as if no time had passed, and
conversations ran the gamut from
childhood memories at our
grandparents’ house, to our
shortcomings, our crazy family, and
the aches and pains of growing old.
I can’t wait to see her again.
After our stay at Moosehead Lake,
Dan and I followed the Golden Road
from Canada to Millinocket, past
Mount Katahdin and North East Carry
and took in much of the Maine
landscape that Thoreau wrote about.
We ended that vacation in our
favorite spot in Maine – the
Burgoyne homestead in Carmel where
three generations of Burgoynes live.
As always, Dan’s brothers and their
wives and children, and Dan’s
sister, Kathy, and all the nieces
and nephews were so welcoming and
the time seemed too short. We miss
them soon as we leave.
Dan had surgery on the broken disks
in his back in April. I swear his
doctor looked all of 19 years old. I
was ready to become the inquisitor
and test this doc’s entire medical
competency and maybe even request
another doctor. How much experience
could someone that young have?
Apparently a lot. Turns out he did
his neurosurgery residency at
Hopkins and co-founded the Baltimore
Neurosurgery and Spine Center. So
he’s a real young looking smarty.
The doctor says they won’t be able
to tell much about the success of
surgery for a year. Dan copes daily
with quite a lot of pain, but he
still has time to take care of the
animals, and the house, and
listening to me go on and on about
my day. He’s the only one who can
make me laugh when I’m miserable. I
don’t know what I’d do without him.
I’m still writing Thin Places:
Celtic Doorways to the Otherworld.
Hopefully it will be done before I’m
ready for the nursing home. To help
keep me inspired, I’m taking a group
to Ireland May 15-24th. We’ll be
covering much of the south. If you
know anyone who wants to see some
spectacular sites in Dingle, Kinsale,
Cork, Kildare, Kerry , Tipperary and
Dublin – with an excellent tour
guide who talks non-stop, please
invite them to come on the
Thin Places Mystical Tour.
Our six children are well, and
scattered across five Eastern
states. We’re a little sad that
Albert will not be home for
Christmas. He’ll be somewhere under
the surface of the sea in a U.S.
Navy submarine defending our
country. Please pray for him and for
Ruth and Bailea who will be spending
Christmas apart.
An early Christmas gift and the
highlight of the year was the birth
of a new grandson – Tristan. Lara
was due to have him on Thanksgiving
Day, but he didn’t come until
December 2nd. I was lucky to be
there for the birth. For those of
you who get the chance to see your
grandchild be born – I highly
recommend it. Forget what they say
about it being messy and gross.
That’s a minute factor in the
setting. When you see that new
little life come forth from the
hidden womb, your very existence is
dwarfed by the greatness that is
that child. The mess is like
leftover wrapping on the floor at
Christmas. It has to be picked up or
pushed out of the way, but never
overshadows the thrill of the gift.
And the only thing rivaling the
experience of seeing your grandchild
be born, is watching the your own
child morph from baby girl into
mother in one seamless act of
reaching out her arms and drawing
that newborn to her chest. There are
simply no words. Suffice it say,
it’s a life changer.
If you know you’re in love when all
the songs make sense, then you know
the meaning of Christmas when you
witness a child being born.
Everything is made new again – a
perfect little being comes into the
world with no faults, no grievances,
no sorrows, no fears – like some
great shining promise of good things
to come needing only to be nurtured,
guided and protected in order for
the promise to be fulfilled. My
Uncle Tony sent me an email
Christmas card that was an animated
slide show of cities around the
world all decked out for Christmas.
While Silent Night played in the
background, images of Paris, Seoul,
Dublin, Beijing, Budapest, Vienna,
Beirut, Copenhagen, Tokyo, Red
Square, New Delhi, Hamburg, Lima and
Perth flashed across the screen –
each city with its own unique
Christmas trees, lights, stars, and
celebratory decorations. I couldn’t
help but wonder how the birth of one
baby so long ago could impacted the
world, cross faith barriers and
unite so many people around one
common theme. I’m guessing it isn’t
the birth of Jesus that had the
impact, but more the birth of the
message he delivered. It stuck.
I’ve often thought every world
leader, regardless of his or her
religious affiliation, should read
the Sermon on the Mount every
morning, just to keep focused and
balanced. Lots of good leadership
wisdom there … Love and help others
less fortunate than you… Don’t be
too impressed with yourself… Don’t
use your power to exploit those who
are weak … Use your power to lift
others up… Don’t cry, because things
will get better… Recognize and
identify a lie when you see it, even
though it may make you instantly
unpopular, and cause you to pay a
price, maybe even the ultimate
price… Don’t hide your talent. Let
your light shine, and know there is
a special place in the world for
that only you can fill. .. And
remember, nothing is more important
than love. It is the ultimate gift.
And love endures past this life into
the next. There is nothing stronger
and nothing can extinguish it.
I’ll get down off the soapbox now
and stop trying to fulfill my secret
desire to be a priest (hee hee).
Christmas always gets me thinking.
Writing is my natural progression
for letting those thoughts run
loose. Please know how special you
are to us. Know that we are thinking
of each one you this Christmas, and
we wish you happiness, health, and
prosperity in 2011. We pray that all
your prayers will be answered.
God bless you and those whom you
love.
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