THANKFUL FRIDAY

There was a house just outside of Collinsville that every year, would have the most beautiful and elegant Christmas light display. We would pass by this house every time we drove into and out of town. One year they did not decorate at all. I can remember riding in the backseat and driving by the house on our way home from an evening church service and asking my parents why the house was not decorated for Christmas. My mother answered “They had a death in the family and will not be celebrating this year.” I remember nodding my head in understanding. We had experience our own loss right around the Holidays a few years earlier. There was a tree that year and presents, but very little joy.

This feels like an age old question: When is it appropriate to celebrate during and after times of great loss?

Michael and I are not Jewish, but during our first holiday season together, we listened to a story about celebrating Hanukkah on NPR. We found the story to be so beautiful and moving that we decided right then to start our own tradition of lighting the menorah. Over the years, it has become the most meaningful holiday ritual for me. We do not do eight days of gifts. We do have latkes on the first night, but the most important part is that we all take a moment to stand in one place together, lighting the candles and being grateful. Merging families with different backgrounds and traditions can be messy. We both came from a particular way of life that included other people, traditions we were use to in previous relationships. Celebrating Hanukkah became our tradition.

I woke up around 3 AM on Thursday morning and then laid in my bed thinking about the Palestinians in Gaza and their families who live in places outside of Gaza who are hearing of loved ones being slaughtered. I couldn’t stop thinking about how more than half of the prisoners released by Israel during the cease fire were all eighteen years or younger. Many of all of the prisoners released were being held without charge. I can’t imagine that the continued bombings of civilians in Gaza is going to bring about the release of the remaining Israeli hostages either. My heart is split between the Palestinians who are suffering from losing most of their family and their homes and the Israeli families who lost family members in the Hamas attack or are still waiting the fate of their family members. How do you celebrate a holiday so connected to this suffering?

I had to go back to all of those years ago when I heard that story on NPR. I had to remember what it was about that story that struck me with the beauty of Hanukkah and how it embodies the daily gratitude practice. I thought of that first Christmas after we lost J. No one felt the holiday spirit, but we gathered and celebrated because it was always J’s favorite thing. We celebrated to honor the one we had lost. This year with Hanukkah, I am lighting the candles to honor those we have lost but also to spread light.

Praised are you, lord our God, Ruler of the universe, who has given us life and sustained us and enabled us to reach this season.

This year, I am lighting the candles for those who cannot. This year, I am bringing light to those trapped in the dark.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Hanukkah snuck up on me this year. I wasn’t prepared for it to start so early and there was even a very tiny discussion about skipping it. The menorah never makes it into a designated place at the end of the season. Instead, I manage to place it somewhere near the Christmas decorations in the basement. One year, I lost it all together and had to buy a new one. It was a year when we travelled around Oklahoma and because it was still Hanukkah, we took the menorah with us to light each evening. I have a feeling that menorah got lost somewhere between Oklahoma City and Tulsa.

On Saturday, I bought a new pack of candles and then went to the basement in search of our menorah. After digging through two boxes of Christmas stuff, I triumphantly emerged with our menorah and set it in its usual spot on the bookcase. I guess somewhere between the discussion of not participating in Hanukkah and getting things ready for Thanksgiving, I made the decision to put in the effort for Hanukkah. On the first night, as Michael lit the candles, I recited the prayers and just like I do every year, I got choked up on the last prayer.

Blessed are You, Lord our G‑d, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.

It is easy to forget throughout the year the importance of taking the tiniest of moments to acknowledge and be grateful for just surviving the day. Despite all the odds, you are still alive and breathing. Each night as we light the menorah candles and recite the prayers, I feel more and more grounded in the moment. As I mindfully say each word of the prayer, I feel a weight lift from my body and I savor the moment of peace that settles into the place of that lifted weight.

This year has not been an easy one, emotionally or physically. This has been true for many of us, but we are here. We are living and we are surviving. No matter how one chooses to do so, all of that is worth celebrating.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Last night Michael and I celebrated the first night of Hanukkah. We lit the menorah candles. We ate latkes and some candy we’d purchased for the holiday. We said the Hanukkah prayers. Three blessings are said on the first the night of Hanukkah. The last blessing is the one that made me pause.

Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.

Neither of us are Jewish, but I, at least, have found that lighting the menorah during Hanukkah to be a grounding and meaningful way to celebrate this time of year. In the times that we have been doing this, I have said the prayers with more of an emphasis on just saying the words correctly. More reflection has gone into the act of lighting the candles than the words being said. I realize this now probably because the previous years have been fairly easy. I have been taking these blessings for granted. Isn’t that just the way? When life is good, we take it for granted that it will always be good. Sometimes I think that I should be above that. That after all my losses, I would always remember that each day we survive is a blessing.

Today I give thanks for this reminder. I give thanks that we have survived and that this family has been lucky enough to survive this year without any losses.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Third night

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Tuesday evening marked the first night of Hanukah. Michael and I rushed through our lighting of the first candle and Hanukkah prayers because we had to get across town for the Cabbage's school Christmas play. She was the Reindeer Whisperer, which was a very important part because her character saves Christmas. The performers were all first graders and I commend the music teacher for her ability to herd a hundred cats. One of my favorite performers was a kid dressed as a reindeer. His signature dance move was the pelvic thrust while wiggling his fingers at his family in the audience. The kid playing Santa had a broken leg. He spent the performance seated in a big chair center stage. Occasionally he would pick up his good leg and play with the bottom of his shoe. At the middle point in the play, he pulled his fake beard off and thoroughly scratched his face with both hands.  The whole production was spectacular, including the moment Mrs. Santa broke character to yell "WE NEED THE REINDEERS DOWN HERE!"

On the second night of Hanukkah, everyone got home late and it was well after sundown when we lit our menorah candles and said our prayers. We stood there for maybe a minute longer than we had the previous night. Both of us were tired. Michael is fighting the sinus congestion cold that I had all weekend and I am still dealing with the aftermath of all that congestion. Both of had to stop gazing at the burning candles in order to go blow our noses. The third night of Hanukkah was not much different from the second night of Hanukkah, with the two of us cramming in the candle lighting between making dinner and paying bills. We are definitely, unintentionally, lacking in enthusiasm this year, but we persist. We persist because of the third blessing that was said on the first night: 

Praised are You, Our God, Ruler of the universe, Who has given us life and sustained us and enabled us to reach this season.

We put the emphasis on the part about being able to reach this season, because ain't that truth. 

The Cabbage mentioned something about getting a different stocking for our house. I made a big fuss over the blood, sweat and cursing that went into the making of her stocking. I'd had a hard time getting the sewing machine to work properly that year. Michael asked me when I had made my stocking. I told him that I had made my stocking along with Hooper's the year before I had made his and the Cabbage's. Michael thought about this for a minute and then said "Wait...you made a stocking for yourself and your dog for your first Christmas alone and then your dog died before Christmas? That's the saddest story." I just shrugged, but was thinking that it all depends on how you look at things. Sure it was sad, but at the same time appropriately hilarious because it is a dark comedy that only Chris could have written for the big screen. Of course the heroine of the story loses her husband and her dog in the same year. That's just the first five minutes of this movie. It's what she does after those losses that has the audience standing in ovation. 

So yeah...I am thankful for whatever enables us to reach this season. I am also thankful for the reminder to pause, even if it is just for a short moment, in our busy daily life to recognize and honor the fact that we are still here, still kicking, still putting up the good fight. And speaking of putting up the good fight, I want to thank the Black women of Alabama for getting out and rocking that vote on Tuesday. It is one thing for me to say thank you through social media, but I want to do better than that. So I'm trying to figure out a way to move either my monthly Planned Parenthood donation or monthly Donors Choose donation to the NAACP. I can't do all three, but I will find a way! It may mean that I end up helping out physically with campaigns and doing more foot work. I recognize that I can do more to show my gratitude. Actually, there is something I want more of in the next year and that would be more gratitude in action. 

I am thankful for Terry (he knows why). I am thankful for my Neti pot. I am thankful for lunch with a friend who has spent the last year just traveling all around this planet. I am thankful to hear her stories. I am thankful for the little surprises that come with this season. And...I am thankful for you.

EIGHT CRAZY NIGHTS: WHAT WE LEARNED FROM LIGHTING THE MENORAH

Day eight

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On Christmas Eve, as we were driving to drop off the Cabbage with her Mom, I said to Michael "It's the first night of Hanukkah. We should light a menorah!" He narrowed his eyes and said "We should light a menorah!" We dropped the kid off and then headed to Walgreens to buy a menorah except Walgreens didn't have any. So then we went to World Market, but they didn't have any menorahs either. World Market doesn't seem so 'worldly' now. Finally, we walked next door to Target and they had menorahs tucked over on an end cap between stationary and birthday wrapping paper. We bought a menorah and some candles and while Michael drove us home, I did some research on how we're actually supposed to light the candles. 

We got home and set up our little menorah. Michael lit the shamash candle and then I said the blessings before he lit the first candle of Hanukkah. Then we looked at each other with giant grins on our faces. This felt important and relevant. Soon after I posted a picture of our menorah, Chad sent me a text asking me if Michael is Jewish. I sent a reply of 'nope' and then explained that we just felt that lighting the menorah was something we would do this year. As the days past and I posted more menorah pictures, I had several people say to me "I didn't know you were Jewish!" Again, I would explain that I am not Jewish and that lighting the menorah was our way of honoring other religions during this Holiday season. Michael even talked about getting a calendar that listed ALL the holidays and trying to celebrate every single one throughout a year. Charles, our friend who is about to be ordained as a priest, reminded us that this was an overwhelming idea because there are SO MANY HOLIDAYS. So we put a hold on that thought. 

For eight days, we said blessings and lit the candles on the menorah. When we traveled, we took the menorah with us. We included all of those we stayed with in lighting the menorah. 

Blessed are you, our G-d, King of the Universe who sanctified us with his commandments, and commanded us to kindle the Chanukah lights.

Blessed are you, our G-d, King of the Universe who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time. 

Each night, I spoke those words as I watched Michael light one candle and then another. It was a moment of each day where we had to pause. It was a moment of each day where we had to stop and say "it's time to light the menorah." and it made us more mindful. It gave the holiday and the time spent with family and friends more of something I'm not sure of. Maybe tangible? Meaningful? Respectful. Important. This may be the beginning of a yearly tradition. Maybe next year we add on until we are recognizing all of the different religions. Do you know the story of Giordano Bruno? He was an Italian Dominican friar who lived between 1550 and 1600.  He continued Copernicus's work and proposed that stars where distant suns and that the universe is infinite. Of course, the Roman Inquisition didn't care for this and had Bruno executed for heresy. During his trial it is said that Bruno defended his theories by saying that God is infinite and therefor the universe must be infinite. He declared to the Roman Catholics that "their God was too small." He was burned at the stake on February 17th, 1600.

Lighting the menorah each night reminded me that I grew up in a religion whose God is too small, too exclusive, a religion very much like the many other exclusive religions. Yet, by taking a moment to understand other religions we begin to understand more about each other and it is apparent that we all want to believe in something greater than ourselves. Isn't that proof that God is indeed infinite and not confined to one book or another?