It's the second day of Christmas...

Dear all,
It’s the Second Day of Christmas – we’ve opened our gifts and your cards, but we’ll savor your letters when we return from Ft. DeSoto where we’re camping John and Janie Sloane, whose condo we watch when they’re in Hyannis, whose driveway we could call “home” when in Plymouth if Merri and Geoff still lived on a busy street instead of a cul- de - sac. (To everyone who invited us to “live” in their driveway, please forgive us for not stopping by in July when Max was born, and for not calling you the couple of times I’ve visited since. The energy spent keeping up with 2 year-old Sam is only restored by rocking his baby to sleep.)
On Christmas day, Jen and Chad served Roast Beef and Yorkshire pudding and regaled us with Ringling /Disney on Ice stories. I delight in their lives and am in awe of God’s work, for when Jen was five she said “He” wanted her to be a vet. She majored in French and International Relations in college and in her junior year declared she would spend her life making people happy. Only the Creator could have merged it all into a career that has her responsible for managing the logistics of transporting and caring for hundreds of performers (four legged ones, too) from and to arenas all over the world entertaining families.
Meredith is beginning to fulfill her childhood dream of becoming grandmother to a small town. Her boys will have some say in that reality, but she does live in the place that claims to be the great-great grandmother of most small towns in America, although I would argue St. Augustine has the right to that title even though it was a military colony first Spanish, then English, until after the War of 1812. And the Seminoles still living in the Everglades would challenge us both.
Speaking of challenges ... My mother taught me to play bridge when I was ten, and when my Dad was housebound, I’d visit every Monday so she could play with her “club.” Sure that playing games kept her mind sharp almost ‘til the day she died, and because Bridge is the one game I always thought I could win if I learned to pay attention, I’m working hard to become an “A” player. It may take a few years, but my 81 year old partner is both a mentor and a role model. Art is role model and mentor to the cast members in his bi-monthly classes on their first day “of work” at Walt Disney World having been chosen to be one of 53 “proud members of the WDW 2012 Traditions Team”, a once in a lifetime opportunity.
We turned our guest room into a space where he could prepare for his classes, (Mickey Mouse is everywhere), made room for my writing by putting a desk in the den, put the TV into the living room and suddenly our condo feels like home. Maybe because we’re living in every inch of it, maybe because like Walt and Lillian Disney, and Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward, we thrive in this pattern of living – our interests differ, but our trust in and awe for each other is cherished in the times we are together - watching Leverage and Burn Notice… walking the parks…camping…
To celebrate the feeling of home, I invited friends who ground me to meet each other on my birthday: my oldest friend (we met in junior high), my oldest daughter, pool buddies, writers and readers of all ages, and, as in every circle of friends I’ve ever had, they needed no prompts to keep the evening lively (although they humored me by playing one involving 5 decades of pop culture that I’ll send to you if you ask).
The deepest sense of rootedness came early this month when two of the first people to welcome us to Celebration were eulogized at the same time in the two churches where we’ve worshipped. Dave Thompson was our buyers’ agent and because of his regular check-ins with the builders, we’re convinced we’ve the best built unit in our neighborhood. We did not know Lois Loons well, but an ornament her little boy made as a Christmas welcome to our first faith community is cherished.
A place becomes home when one buries a friend – more an Easter thought than a Christmas one, perhaps, but as I meet guests in Disney World who have come to jump start their lives after a loss, as we pray about joys and concerns with friends old and new , near and far, the promise of Christmas becomes tangible. Like the shepherds, we will abandon our work to care for a child, like the Magi, we will give our all for a vision. Like Mary and Joseph, we nurture the Light.
The day after our dear dog, Zak crossed the Rainbow Bridge, we began a cruise through Alaska’s inner passage. In the glacier calves that floated past the ship we saw shapes of animals and flowers, peoples and places, almost as if the Creator placed them in the ice to be discovered as Michelangelo found the Pieta. May the New Year bring us all discoveries, vision, comfort, hope, energy, and laughter as we continue to light each others paths.
Peace and Good__________ ,
Beth and Art.

Our Children's Expectations

“I know what makes evil in the world,” my five year old announced for no reason apparent to me.


“Really what?”


“One day somebody made a mistake and didn’t tell.”


Our goal was to raise our children “Catholic without the guilt” and she had not yet heard the word sin from us, but her imagination often took her to places of wisdom, and on this day she defined “Original Sin” for me.


In the aftermath of the Tucson shootings, the media has been attempting to find reasons that will stop our grieving. I’ve listened to pundits both left and right analyze political conversations as far back as the death of Alexander Hamilton at the hand of Aaron Burr to explain and/or justify the collective/individual American psyche which celebrates free speech that may or may not lead to violence because while one may not "falsely shout Fire in a crowded theater", one may carry a handgun into it.


I’ve listened to conversations about mental illness that attempt to explain the complexity of our brains but still leave people believing that “if only someone had done something” maybe the tragedy would not have happened.

"We should do everything we can to make sure this country lives up to our children's expectations," the president said at the memorial service for the Tucson victims.

Thirty years ago my daughter set the bar very high.

“Try to do right.” ‘Fess up when you’re wrong.”