(The day and date noted
above suggest that I am composing this piece and typing it out only
hours after the events described. That is certainly not the case. This
is being written a few days after the party and is being backdated to
give the illusion that you're getting dispatches from the front lines
of my life. You're not. You're getting emotion recollected in
tranquility. If it was good enough for Wordsworth . . . )
Five years ago I looked up the dates of Gaudete Sunday (the third
Sunday of Advent) for 2000 to 2004, wrote them on a snowflake-shaped
sticky note, and put it on the inside cover of my party planning
notebook. Lynn was in ninth grade then, and
I'd had a hard
time getting focus about Christmas and having the party at all.
Seasonal depression had hit me hard that year and I was coping with
some physical problems as well. When I finally pulled myself together
and decided to go ahead with the party, I committed to having it for
five more years at least, until Lynn's first college semester break.
By last night almost everything was in place. Two pans of lasagna were
prepared to the point of baking, the ham balls were thawed, ready to be
heated up with the peach preserve-chili sauce, the pear tart and red
velvet cake were finished and in the refrigerator, and the dips, cheese
balls, and cookie trays were assembled. Just finishing work and
last-minute arranging was left to be done.
I got up at 6:00 and came downstairs to find that the orchid bouquet
I'd had a local florist copy from the
Calyx
and Corolla catalog had wilted, even though it had looked almost
perfect when I picked it up yesterday. I figured, well, something was
bound to go slightly wrong, and since
the hole in the
ceiling had gotten repaired without much trouble, I'd stayed
healthy despite one or two days when I thought I felt a cold coming on,
and the bad weather was holding off till late evening, wilted flowers
were a minor annoyance. I mean, nobody's going to say, you know, her
party would have been much better if she'd had a fresh orchid bouquet
on the sideboard.
The florist offers an eight-day guarantee. I discovered that their west
shore store (about twenty minutes away) opened at 10:00 on Sunday. I
had enough time to get over there, have them apologize profusely and
replace the bouquet with something not quite so spectacular but fresh
(and give me a credit), and still get to church in time to sing "O
Come, O Come, Emmanuel," my favorite Advent carol (which I can still
sing in
Latin).
After that things went smoothly — the supermarket had my fruit and
sandwich trays ready, I didn't nearly set fire to myself trying to
light the sterno (as I had in 1997), and the first guests (church
friends on their way to caroling at a retirement center) arrived
precisely at 4:00.
About half the people I'd invited came. (No, I don't know what I'd do
if everybody showed up.) Some regulars couldn't come because of other
commitments, but some who had never been here before dropped in. As
usual, people I didn't know from the same milieu knew each other from
elsewhere, and people who didn't know anybody but the invited guest
they came with made themselves comfortable and seemed to have a good
time. My friends from grade school joined with me to sing the
poinsettia song, and one of Lynn's friends took as a personal challenge
the task of making
a
folded paper star.
The food held out. All of the fajita wrap sandwiches from the
supermarket disappeared, there was one serving of ham balls left, and
half the second pan of lasagna. I judged all of my guests cookie
worthy, but there were enough cherry dot cookies and cardamom Lucia
rolls to make for snacks all next week.
Snow had begun falling by the time the last guest left. It was
beautiful but treacherous. As far as I know all my friends got home
safely. Lynn helped me open the hostess gifts people had brought (some
of them quite elaborate) and make a list for thank-you notes. (As
usual, some lost their tags or never had one. If you brought the Russel
Stover chewy centers, you won't get a personal note, but they are
yummy!) By 10:00 the dishes were done and the food was packed away and
I was able to sit down for the episode of
Cold Case we'd taped earlier.
People I love very much were here. Others who couldn't come were
thought of, and presumably are thinking of me. Christmas has come to my
heart, and I'm ready for the new year.
