Happy Holidays and here’s my first annual holiday letter to go with it.
The Pastor Pair (Iris and Steven) didn’t take any exotic trips this year – to foreign countries and mysterious ports of entry, that is. We did take a few unscheduled and unforeseen excursions to the hospital though.
Five different hospitals over the course of three months were visited to be exact. For just one purpose: KIDNEY STONES. The service, food, accommodations and staff were all satisfactory. Prices varied, amenities were spotty and room service sometimes took a long time.
One hospital definitely had the best view, though. An unimpeded, panoramic view of the downtown skyline from the ninth floor – unfortunately we had no deck on which to observe the sights. Didn’t matter though. If we were able to block out the reality of the IV pole, the constrictions of a catheter, and the inconvenience of a hospital bed, both my husband and I agreed it could have been a most romantic setting even without the deck.
As for the kids:
Summer camps and summer jobs
Fun and frolic was their reality buffer
Trips to Israel and Europe
After all, why should the children suffer?
And still no engagements, marriages, nor grandchildren
None of us climbed Mt. Everest nor won the lottery. None of us repaired the peeling bathroom wallpaper or cleaned the insides of the storm windows.
The Cuisinart is still broken. The video camera is too. The Internet hasn’t been explored and using a TV remote control is still beyond my capabilities.
I still haven’t learned how to speak French fluently, prepare rack of lamb with flair, and effortlessly and with grace, entertain.
To be perfectly honest, I still haven’t learned to speak even a smidgen of F’rench, broil a lamb chop or entertain on the most basic level, much less with grace.
I’m still bitchy when I get tired and cranky when I’ve overeaten and sleepy when I should be romantic. And lately, all fresh vegetables give me gas.
My husband hasn’t taken off one Wednesday to spend JUST WITH ME like my friends Gloria and Alter routinely do and he forgot to send me 12 perfect red roses for my birthday this year – a mere oversight I’m sure.
I didn’t get another book published nor my Visa balance down. I haven’t learned the art of growing perfect African Violets, nor lost the five pounds I gained last holiday season. My knees still jiggle in spite of walking, biking and using The Fast Trak II machine. And my arms sag worse than ever above my elbows.
We haven’t remodeled our bathrooms, expanded our kitchen nor moved to a more splendid location. We haven’t invested wisely, inherited a bundle or robbed a bank, so we are postponing our retirement move to Provence for a short time.
We haven’t read The Bible, any books other than those on sale at the grocery store, or any classics whatsoever.
We haven’t dared to be different and dye our hair green, though I must admit my husband did completely shave his head in January and one of the boys had their ear pierced. And their tongue. And they have now all made it through their Bar Mitzvahs with dignity and grace. Whew.
As for our kids who are still in school:
Not in the top 1 percent
A few after-school DT’s
Homework incomplete
A predominance of C’s
As for our kids who are out of school:
Working
Partying
Moving
Partying
Finding themselves
Partying
The Pastors are still planning on learning how to sail, surf, and hydra plane. And The Pastors are hoping one day soon to catch up on the gardening and develop a reliable filing system, and take more family getaways, and organize the photos, and take a formal group portrait.
Like our cohorts, we’ve had our losses this year and unfortunately too many much-loved and familiar faces are no longer with us. For those, we mourn.
In short, this year, in spite of what YOU may write US, was a pretty run-of-the-mill year. We had our share of triumphs, joys and championships. But in between the highs, there were a lot of days of treading water, fighting just to maintain the status quo and settling for average growth, average achievement and average production. And who wants to hear about those?
Happy Holidays to all and to all, a Good Night.
PS: The above family holiday letter was written 23 years ago in 1998. We have since been blessed with three lovely daughters-in-law and seven grandchildren. And I have gained an appreciation for my adult sons, who in addition to their responsibilities and obligations, continue to “party hearty”.
What’s changed?
Facebook, Instagram and Tik Tok have replaced the holiday letter so that 24/7 we can be reminded how “ideal” everyone else’s life is compared to ours. And Covid continues to wreak havoc.
What hasn’t changed?
Our reverence for life.
Happy New Year and Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor