Stay

I feel the holiday season coming around, and it's something I feel deeply, a kind of eager anticipation, but also a little ache as well. Eager because I can't wait for break and not having the weight of projects and tests and meeting expectations. Ache-y because Christmas always brings a little bit of nostalgia, but for what I'm not sure. Maybe for things that have changed since last Christmas--changes in relationships and locations and growing up. Christmas is kind of like a dependable marker for time passing. There have been wonderful Christmas' in the past, but there have also been bittersweet ones. It's kind of a bummer when you give and don't feel anything in return. I know Christmas is not about that, but I feel like it's so pounded in my head by ads and media and just, the way things are, that it's hard to dissociate the two. I wish I could just make it about Christ and his birth and be completely joyous and content with that.


I just finished reading the book "Some Things That Stay" by Sarah Willis, and it struck a chord in me. It asks some serious questions about what home means, death, life, and faith. I don't really agree with how the author chose to portray all the Christians in the novel, but it brought up some really good questions/thoughts about God and fear and grace from the viewpoint of the protagonist Tamara, who is not a Christian. It made me a little sad by the end of it, but it was a wonderfully written book, full of interesting descriptions and nuances weaved throughout. I wish I could write like this. Also, take a look at that cover! Tamara's father is a landscape painter and their family never lives anywhere longer than a year because her father needs new inspiration for his paintings. Tamara and her family long for a place, a home to call their own. I think the cover does such a good job of speaking about this yearning found within the book. The brush strokes paint over the title, almost completely covering "That Stay" to show that for Tamara's family, "staying" is only transient with an expiration date.

And speaking of things that stay, I'm amazed at the capacity of memories that stay even as the years stretch on. I'm equally amazed and a little disappointed at the ones that don't. This weekend my cousin, who is now thirty, came to stay with us for the weekend. The last time he stayed at our house was fifteen years ago in West Virginia, when he stayed with us for the holidays. He was only fourteen then, and I was five. I remember that he often had indigestion, that he loved nerds and he stole them from his stocking over the fireplace long before Christmas came. He could spin a pillow on his index finger, and I would stare, fascinated, as that silk red pillow spun. He gave our family a Pocahontas cup for Christmas, which we still use now. It has survived while others have died, shattered in a moment of carelessness while washing the dishes, or the jab of an elbow on unsuspecting glass. Fifteen years later, he still has indigestion. Some things just stay the same. Haha.

Our entire family had Thanksgiving together for the first time since 2002. I didn't realize this until my sister pointed it out. In 2002 my dad had moved to New Jersey while we were still in California, waiting for the year to end. To save money he didn't come for Thanksgiving but came instead for Christmas. In 2003 my sister stayed in California for college and the rest of us were in Jersey. Then she stayed there after college too, when she worked. So eight thanksgivings have passed where all of us weren't together. That's a lot of Thanksgivings. Boy, does time fly. But anyways, I was and am thankful that God brought us all together again. It's such a simple thanks, but it's enough.