The Old Sears Catalog

I always remember December 4^th because my mom told me that was her due date. She remained uncomfortably pregnant with me until the 19^th. I always felt a little hurt about her impatience in waiting for me to arrive until I was pregnant with my first child. My due date was May 1; he was born May 10^th and I was oh so more than ready. I then understood what my mom was talking about.

Yesterday I posted on my blog that I wanted to avoid all the garbage going on around us for the Christmas season. And then, of course, 45 opened his mouth and said he’d like to overturn the Constitution. Now I’m going to restrain myself because getting involved in that drama is just going to give me agita. There won’t be any consequences (if any) until much later than Christmas anyhow.

 And then I read John Pavlovitz’s blog entry called “An Open Letter To Those Who Still Give A Damn.” That bolstered my conviction to set it aside. Yes, I give a damn and I still give a damn, but I need a break. I’m becoming frazzled and irritated, waiting for the next outrageous thing. Now I tell myself: can you do anything about it?  No? Then set it aside and enjoy the season.

Another tweeter asked if we remember the Sears catalog and that brought back some warm, fun memories.  Yes, indeed, I remember the Sears catalog. We got one during the fall season every year. My brother and I began anticipating its arrival even before Halloween!  We all pored through it, parents and children alike.  My brother and I looked through it most often, drooling.

When it was my turn to go through the toy pages, I circled everything that appealed to me in red pen ink.  I knew Santa couldn’t bring me everything I wanted but I knew I would get something. My brother did the same when it was his turn. We dogeared the pages so that when it came time to write to Santa, we would remember everything we wanted.

Just before Christmas, we were allowed to cut paper dolls and paper toys from the catalog. I’m guessing now my parents were done with their shopping and didn’t need it anymore. What fun that was! We would play together or alone with our paper dolls and that activity kept us busy right up until Christmas Eve.

When my children were little, Sears changed their procedure and didn’t mail the catalogs. We could pick one up from the nearby store itself. That was a special trip because my kids looked forward to exploring a catalog as much as my brother and I did.  If I could, I would pick up more than one catalog.  It’s not easy for two kids to share a catalog as my brother and I did, never mind three little ones all eager to have a long look.  My kids also cut paper dolls and paper toys out of the books.

Now they are all grown up, and I don’t know if Sears even has a catalog anymore. I don’t know if Sears has any stores open at all.  I don’t shop in malls or any stores other than Walmart anymore, not since the pandemic. Our grandchildren are either grown or live out-of-state and the same is true of our great grandchildren.

I hadn’t thought about Sears catalogs in years.  I was happy to be reminded.

 

The Holiday Season

 

The Holiday Season

Thanksgiving always starts the holiday season for me. It culminates on January 6^th, Three Kings Day. I love the season and Christmas music is my go-to year-round when I need to decompress. 

There continues to be so much hatred and divisiveness in this country. I choose to put it in a closet for the next four or five weeks.  That’s a technique I learned in childhood. It’s not always a functional thing to do but it does save me physically and emotionally from stress and grief temporarily.

When I was growing up on Long Island, the Christmas season was something we kids looked forward to all year. It seemed to take such a long time to arrive as we slowly got ready for it: Thanksgiving dinner, decorations, choosing a tree.  Until I was about 7 or 8, my Deaf father would read “The Night Before Christmas” aloud. He read painstakingly and pointed to each word (and that’s how I learned to read before I started kindergarten).  When I hear the story read aloud, I flash back to my dad’s voice.  It was flat and without inflection but a loving, comforting sound.

I remember Christmas Eve services. Most members of our family attended the Presbyterian Church of Islip. Our Sunday school class did a little program at the beginning of one year’s service. I remember the minister and my grandma came to our house to ask my parents if I could be the narrator.  I had lines to learn, and my parents practiced with me, reading my lips as I practiced my lines.

The stained-glass windows were beautiful in the dim light, and I remember looking around at all the people pictured in the windows.  The church had a ginormous organ with pipes that reached to the ceilings. The organ music was loud and comforting, and I could feel the vibrations inside my body. My parents relied on instruments like that to enjoy music. Most of the service was boring for them because there were no sign language interpreters. When the choirs sang with their lovely voices, my parents only saw lips moving. There were no vibrations from the voices.  Ah, but when the organ played, my parents’ eyes lit up with joy and they’d smile.

In later years, after we moved to Maryland, there were no more church services. My parents drank heavily, fought and there was DV. But they always had a truce for a few weeks during the Christmas season. I think it’s true that most people are imbued with the joy of the season.

But why?

For a child, I think it’s all about Santa.  Yes, I learned the Christmas Story in Sunday School. Those were the “olden days” and far removed from anything I’d experienced. Spending the night in a manger with animals? Being turned away everywhere else? The rejection weighed heavily on me. It was much better and happier to focus on Santa, that jolly old man with all the toys.

There’s always a point when the truth comes out. There is no Santa per se, but he represents the spirit of loving and giving. One of my favorite pictures is of a Santa kneeling by the cradle of baby Jesus. Santa’s act of love and giving reflects Jesus’ teachings.

Not everyone is Christian. Not everyone celebrates Christmas or recognizes Santa Claus.  Over the years, Santa’s come to represent commercialism and gimmie-ism.

It doesn’t matter what we believe. What matters the most to me about Christmas is the spirit of caring for others, showing appreciation for them, and caring for them.  Gifts don’t really matter in the end, either. What matters is the gift of love that goes with it.

I try to feel this way all year round because we should not have this loving, giving feeling for just six weeks of the year.  I must admit, though, my inner candle’s flame is brighter and stronger this month.

 

Casablanca and Defending Democracy

 

Casablanca and Defending Democracy

My This Day in History newsletter provides me with dates that were significant for one reason or another. Yesterday’s featured the debut of the film Casablanca on November 26, 1942. It is a love story but, more importantly, it takes place while World War II was raging around the world. Even though it is an 80-year-old movie, it is my most favorite movie of all time not just because of the romance between Rick and Ilsa but because of the bravery shown by people living in an occupied country.

Casablanca is in Morocco and was occupied by the Nazis. There was a Vichy French presence in the country, but they usually gave in to Nazi rules. Rick ran an international club frequented by Nazis, Vichy, citizens of Casablanca and refugees desperate to escape the country to places of freedom. Rick’s former lover Ilsa and her husband Laszlo are two of those seeking to flee. Rick’s conflict was whether to help them escape. If you have seen this impressive movie, you know the outcome.

Living under a Nazi regime is terrifying and life threatening and, yet there was a time during the movie when people stood up for freedom. This is one of the most moving scenes I have ever seen:

The clear message is yes, we reject Nazism’s oppression and horrors.

I think about how things are and the threat to our own democracy.

Even before tRumpism and January 6, 2021, there have been forces moving on the ultra-conservative right-wing politicians and voters to reject democracy. They prefer fascism, offering discrimination and oppression of people of color, different religions, different gender identities, and, more generally, the middle and lower classes.

We could have lost our democracy on January 6, when tRumper violent militias stormed the Capitol. They dragged along with them tRump supporters that originally meant to just protest but got caught up in the destruction and violence at the Capitol. Thankfully, Capitol police helped legislators, staff, and reporters escape the insurrectionists.

That did not stop the insidious movement of those who would overturn democracy. They populated local governments and school boards with their followers. These people managed to have laws passed restricting the right to vote, our ultimate expression of freedom and choice. TFG appointed his loyal followers to the judiciary, and we began to see fundamental rights overturned and in danger of being overturned.

Despite that, we can save our democracy. Our recent midterm reminds me of that heroic scene from Casablanca. We did not have a huge win, but we prevented the tRumper election deniers from a big win that would allow them control of both legislative houses. It cannot end with the midterm victories though. I am sure the tRumpers and GQP are busily working. n their Plan B, so we have to keep fighting.

Our young people, those of Gen Z, significantly helped us save democracy. All of us must join with Gen Z to continue to protect our freedom.