Monday 25 November 2013

All stirred up

I had a bit of a moment in the middle of Saturday night.  I suddenly started panicking about daughter S's wedding. The venue's booked, and the music, but that's all.  I started worrying that because the wedding's in another town, and we hadn't yet booked a house for her to stay in before the wedding, there would be nowhere to stay.  And I worried that we hadn't yet booked the flowers, the photographer, the cars etc etc.  There are still nine months to go, but because it's in August when there are so many weddings I was afraid we'd left things too late.  So I went downstairs in the middle of the night and made a list in my wedding book.  Son G's wedding is at the front of the book, daughter S's at the back.

Of course, in the morning it all felt less scary.  When S returned from her weekend away I sat down with her and talked about how we needed to start booking the various wedding paraphernalia.  My personality is fairly that of a control freak, but on the other hand hers is one which tends to put things off.  I mentioned this to my husband, and he immediately said, 'Like me'.  So S and I discussed this trait, and then agreed that this week S would follow up some leads re the flowers, make up and hair, and I would look into wedding cars.  Then we went back to the house she shares with a friend, and sent an email to book the house where we'll base ourselves.  We also agreed to go dress shopping again on Saturday. And I felt better.  I also felt bad for putting pressure on her as she's had a virus and wasn't feeling very well, but once we've made the bookings, we can then have a less frenetic time until later next year.

Meanwhile, G's fiancee has been emailing the contact in the school where they're hoping to have their reception, so having had the initial discussions, I'm no longer needed.  That's good, although I had to ask G a few questions before he clarified that this was what had happened - I'd been worrying that we hadn't got back to the school with the final plans.

At the same time as I was feeling stirred up with stress, it was also 'stir up' Sunday, and I made two Christmas puddings.  Ever since early in my marriage I've made two - one for us, and one for my sister-in-law and her husband - this dates from the time when the pudding was my contribution to Christmas dinner at their house, in the years when we went to my husband's family.  It was soothing to mix up all the scented fruit and spices, and to stir it and make a wish.  I so wish for two wonderful weddings next year.  I also wish that as I grow older I can be measured in how I tackle planning - coordinating but not controlling, and working in partnership rather than dominating, so that my input to the evolving patterns of family life is helpful and not harsh.

Stir up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Saturday 16 November 2013

The Advent Calendars

I bought the advent calendars today, and I realised that this is the last time I'll buy them for my children as part of this home.  Next year they'll be in their new homes, new family units starting out.

Advent calendars are such an important part of the run up to Christmas.  I remember when I was a child I had a little parchment house, with a night light inside, and the light shone through each window that was opened, a little square like coloured glass.  Later we had advent calendars with simple pictures - a trumpet, a hat, a robin, until on 24 December there would be a big picture of Father Christmas.

Of course, by the time G and S came along, advent calendars incorporated chocolates.  As they became aware of Fair Trade, we had to make sure their calendars contained chocolate that hadn't exploited anyone.  Often these also featured the Christian story, rather than Father Christmas, or fairies, or pop stars, and Jesus in his manger was the focal point of the picture.

But alongside this we also discovered Playmobil advent calendars - elaborate card scenes, with a tiny box for each day containing characters and animals to populate the scenes.  S still has several packed away ready for when she has children.  My favourite is Santa with his sleigh, in a snowy woodland.

Today I bought three Fairtrade calendars with chocolates, one for G and his fiancee and one for S's fiance. I also bought one beautiful, rather over the top German advent calendar, featuring Victorian children on a merry go round.  This is for S, who said she would like pictures rather than chocolates.

I do feel a bit sad, as it dawns on me that this Christmas will be the last one where this house can be described as G and S's home.  Even when they were at university, and G was in his first job living away, they still saw this as home.

Advent stays the same as a time to remember the mystery of God's incarnation, and it will always be special for that reason.  But this advent reminds me that the nature of our home is about to change, and I'm having to say another small goodbye to a sweet tradition, now that the children will finally be flying then nest.

Tuesday 12 November 2013

In remembrance


Remembrance Day is always an important time of year.  I wanted to write this yesterday, on the actual anniversary, but had IT problems, so here it is one day late. 

Remembering began on Saturday afternoon, when I attended ‘Tea at the Blitz’ at a local church. 

We sat at long tables, and ate sandwiches and cake which had been arranged on dainty cake stands. 

We were entertained by brilliant amateurs dressed in Forties costumes, who performed monologues, and sang wartime songs. 

Most of those attending were older people.  Some were probably children during the Second World War, but if they are like my parents this means that in some ways it is even more vivid than an adult memory.  But some must have said goodbye to boyfriends and brothers, and never seen them again.  One was dressed in her Land Girl uniform. 

Each song began with a slightly unfamiliar introduction, but then as the singers launched into the chorus of ‘We’ll meet again’, or ‘There’ll be blue birds over the white cliffs of Dover’, the old voices swelled around the room in an almost unbearably poignant reminder of the past.  The lady opposite me began to cry, and I dared not look at daughter S next to me in case we joined in. 

Finally everyone sang ‘There’ll always be an England’, and it wasn’t jingoistic, it was about belonging. 

Afterwards we all agreed that it had been ‘very emotional’ and I wondered about the stories of each of the older people there, and what they had been thinking. 

S said it had brought home to her in a new way what it must have been like to live through a war, particularly as she now had a fiancĂ©. 

Then on Sunday we had the two minute silence at church, and once again commemorated the dead in wars. 

At work yesterday the silence wasn’t marked, but I went and stood on the stairs for a couple of minutes. 

How do those long sad shadows touch someone in middle age who is contemplating an empty nest?  They are there in my parents’ memories, still immediate now but soon probably to live on only in my memory and my sister’s through the tales our parents told us.  They are there in the national psyche – books like The Great War and Modern Memory show how the First World War affected so much of our culture. They are there too maybe in a determination to carry on valuing the sacrifices made by those boys and young men who will not grow old as we grow old, and to live in a way that would make my great uncles proud, grateful that I have been spared the suffering of war. 

Wilfred Owen put it better than I ever could.

 

 

Friday 8 November 2013

Wedding grace

Both my children are getting married next summer, within a week of each other.

There are various reasons the weddings are so close together, all legitimate, but when we first realised they would only be a week apart I felt quite stressed.

However, now the details are beginning to fall into place I'm getting quite excited.  I also realised early on that I would have to lay aside my control freak impulses and allow the children to get on with the organisation, as they clearly intended to do.

Daughter S's fiance B is extraordinarily focused and sensible, and has methodically sorted out pretty much everything to do with the venue, food etc on the wedding day.  There will also be a second reception later in the year, and that is also pretty much in place, thanks to the generosity of B's parents.

I have had more input to son G's arrangements so far, but this is only because his wedding reception is going to be in a school, and as he's at work during the week I've used my Fridays off to negotiate with the school - but very much according to G and K's wishes.

What I have found heart-warming, in the initial arrangements so far, has been the kindness of strangers.  S and B told me that at their formal and beautiful venue, the catering manager seemed thrilled to be involved, and promised all kinds of detailed support.  Apparently there are only a few weddings there a year, and she wanted to make sure it was really special for them.  I can't say more about where it is at this stage as S wants to keep it a surprise, but it is going to be very special.

At the school where G and K will have their reception, we have met the same kindness.  This will be a more informal wedding, and there have been various discussions about how the food will be provided, but where we've raised questions and asked to negotiate, the senior staff member and the catering manager have tried to be as flexible as possible, and have made a number of very generous concessions.  The school is a church school, and we attend the church it's linked with, so we're building on some close relationships. Even so I've been touched by how much everyone wants to help the young people I love with their special days.

I seem to have a mindset that is surprised by this unlooked for kindness - I don't know if it's because  I'm naturally cynical, but this kind of grace and generosity reminds me that so many people want to make a good contribution to the world.

I hope I reciprocate, and will try to be one of those people, as I go into the empty nest stage of my life.

The worst thing about this week: I didn't get home from work until 10 o'clock last night
The best thing about this week:  A friend has set up a business supplying bunting, so it looks like that aspect of the weddings is sorted 

Saturday 2 November 2013

Book club and community


It was my other book club yesterday.  I call it my other book club because it’s the second one I’ve set up, and I think of the first book club as my actual book club.

We meet in a local library, a slightly shabby but beautiful Art Deco building which is circular and was recently listed.  We sit in a little room to one side of the main atrium where the books are.  There are four sofas set in a square, with a coffee table in the middle, and to one side a staff kitchen which we’re allowed to use to make drinks.  The room leads into a small theatre, which is occasionally used for community productions.  All the rooms are labelled with beautiful wooden lettering – the room we’re in is Dressing Room. 

We meet at lunch time, and bring sandwiches which we eat before we have our discussion.  It’s a Friday lunch time, so only retired people or those who don’t work on Fridays attend.  I normally have Fridays off, and the other members who work also have flexible hours.  One is a mother of young children, but the other members are 50 or over.  We’re all women.

We always have books from the library’s book club list, which means they have always been published in the last couple of years, so haven’t had time to become classics.  The book club is named after the local church many of the members attend, but in spite of this I’ve been interested to note that several of the books we’ve read have featured lust and violence – more so than my other book club which isn’t named after a church, but after the road where all the members but one live. 

This month we had read The Casual Vacancy, by J. K.Rowling.  The book contains graphic descriptions of life in a disadvantaged community. We all felt that it was too harsh in its depiction of unpleasant characters.  One member felt that she had never met people as unpleasant as those in the book.  Others felt the book was realistic.  We all agreed that the story was well told, but that we didn’t like it and found it very bleak.  We discussed community, and F said that she didn’t think there were real communities any more in this country, not communities where if someone died, everyone else in the community was upset.  However, E said that the village where she lives does have many community activities, and there was a group of people who organised all sorts of events, people she knew she could go to if she wanted to know ‘the latest gossip’.

I thought about how I don’t necessarily know all the people who live in my suburb of this city, but I do belong to a number of communities.  They may not be traditional village communities, but the suburb is one, and the two book clubs are two more, and my church is another, and my colleagues are yet another.   They are all somewhere I belong, and within them there are people who look after each other, and rejoice and mourn with each other through the vicissitudes of life.  So even though it’s our habit to lament the loss of community in our modern, busy urban lives, maybe we can see that it still exists where there are people who join together to talk and create and care for each other.