A Kiwi Christmas....

Forgive us for being poor bloggers. Per our previous posts, we have had a few curve balls thrown at us- a parent dying and a quick trip back to Oregon for Cara and single parenthood for 3 weeks for me. Cara arrived back on the 11th and went right back to work and we mostly have settled back into "normal" life in Aotearoa.

We managed to scrape by a Christmas spirit of sorts. We bought a live Christmas pine tree from the Anglicans. It really more resembled a Christmas bush or a Charlie Brown tree than the trees we are accustomed to in the land of douglas and noble firs. Our friend R gave us a box of Christmas ornaments which gave the tree some much needed x-mas cred. All in all it had its own special charm.

We played our Crosby, Sinatra and John Denver and the Muppets x-mas music but somehow the snowy, firelight images didn't mesh with 75 degrees and baaing sheep. The kids were thrilled to have some x-mas cheer in the house and enjoyed opening their presents. After all, presents in the Southern Hemisphere are still presents and Santa visited us first, which was cool.

The next day (Boxing Day, a new holiday for us yanks) was spent at the beach in Sumner, building sand castles and watching Will fall into the surf.

It has been a strange, lonely but memorable Christmas for our family. Enjoy the pics...

In memoriam.....

My father passed away on November 27, 2009 surrounded by his three children. It was a privilege to be by his side and to be present as he passed from this life. I am grateful that I was able to make the trip from New Zealand back to Oregon to be with my family though sad to have to leave Mike and the kids behind.

A dear friend sent me this and I feel compelled to share it here:

When sorrow comes, let us accept it simply, as a part of life. Let the heart be open to pain; let it be stretched by it. All the evidence says that this is the better way. An open heart never grows bitter. Or if it does, it cannot remain so. In the desolate hour, there is an outcry; a clenching of the hands upon emptiness; a burning pain of bereavement; a weary ache of loss. But anguish, like ecstasy, is not forever. There comes a gentleness, a returning quietness, a restoring stillness. This too is a door to life. Here, also, is a deepening of meaning – and it can lead to dedication; a going forward to the triumph of the soul, the conquering of the wilderness. And in the process will come a deepening inward knowledge that, in the final reckoning, all is well.
-A. Powell Davies

Thank you for all of your healing thoughts during this difficult time for our family.