Holding on and letting go

"You cannot always be torn in two." Frodo Baggins

It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’m thinking again about what my goals should be and what my life will be like in 2011. Change is imminent for many people close to me whose life changes will affect mine. 

In three days, my two college boys will leave for school; in the same week my dear friend of over 20 years will move to Southern California; six weeks later my daughter will leave for her 18-month mission in New Zealand. Other changes, though not quite as clearly marked, have been ongoing and will also affect next year. My mother-in-law, once the lively hub of our extended Perry family, has had a series of strokes and is now content to be waited on almost entirely. Her husband, once the quiet, independent patriarch who now shoulders all the caregiving, accepts with alacrity any offer of help.

"Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful"

We "come and adore" in many ways

Every Christmas Eve my siblings and I used to put on a live nativity for our parents, an audience of two. We spent most of our practice time running around the house, dredging up old costumes or articles of clothing that could pass as costumes. Because of all the last-minute preparations, we rarely had time to actually rehearse the play. So, although we always used the same Luke 2 narrative, ad-libbing and other elements of surprise livened up the show from year to year.