December 19

I cut a small tree to put in the kitchen on Friday. As I brought the tree in to the house, I noticed that something significant was missing—the beautiful aroma. No church incense can compare to the scent of balsam. No other scent so swiftly transforms the mundane in to the mystical. Even when we clear the tree and decorations away in January, the scent lingers. It's even a joy to vacuum after taking the tree down, because the scent is stirred up one last time. A Christmas Tree without the aroma is just a tree.

My Winter Solstice festivity felt like it was going to be just like the little tree in the kitchen this year—the form would be there, but the magic strangely absent. As happy as I am for Bran and Susie, moving in to their first home together today—they are too far away. Their departure, so close to the day, meant that two important people would be missing around the Winter Solstice bonfire. And the month of December was more about departure than arrival.

Yesterday I tried to cobble together a celebration of the Winter Solstice, as I do every year, but my heart wasn't in it. I felt stressed. Things weren't coming together and schedules were hard to coordinate. Three major appliances broke within three days of one another. But I didn't want to miss it. I didn't want to miss Bran and Susie and the Winter Solstice celebration on top of that. One thing led to another and I found myself on my cell phone with Mickey, crying. Mickey, being a wise woman, offered the gift of love. "Does he know how much you love him?" she asked as I told her about how sad I felt over Bran leaving to move so far away. And she affirmed her love for me.

Later that afternoon, I found myself on the phone with Patricia. This wise woman understood that I was having a hard time because all of the familiar trappings of the season had suddenly turned topsy turvy. Bearing the gift of Commonsense, she asked astute questions and drew me out about what was important—what would it take for it to "feel" like WInter Solstice? Who needed to be there for it to feel "right"? She told me that if I was working to hard to "make it happen" that, it wasn't going to happen. The form might be there, but like the little tree without the aroma, the feeling would not be. Knowing Patricia, she must have prayed for wisdom and guidance to fall on me—pronto.

When I got home my niece Laura called, my third visitation from a wise woman. Nobody love the Winter Solstice as much as I do, unless it's Laura. Since I don't have brothers or sisters, I can never have nieces or nephews to whom I am related by blood, but in my life I have been given the gift of nieces who are related to me by spirit. Laura "gets it". She was willing to drive down from Providence Rhode Island and back again in one day, just to celebrate the solstice with me. It's the thing our little family "does" for Christmas. It's our tradition. Laura came in, over the phone waves, bearing her gift. Ever so hesitantly, because we are sticklers for doing the solstice on or before the day, she suggested "Could we do it after Christmas maybe—during the 12 days?" Laura is a church musician, so she has to be at her church on Christmas to bear in the spirit for others, but she plans on coming to Connecticut for a few days, driving down on the 26th. Her boyfriend will be back from Florida and her sister will be down from Maine. "It could be fun to do it then" she offered "Instead of celebrating on the downside, we could catch the sun of the upswing..." Suddenly a new vision of a new celebration formed in our minds. It would be fun. Dale and Athene would be up from Carolina, visiting their family in Chinatown. Bran and Susie would be celebrating in their new home, but plenty of other dear friends and surrogate family members would be back in Connecticut. We could have that wonderful feeling of opening the door to let loved ones fly in like snowflakes. There would be time to organize the luminaries and get the bonfire together. I envisioned us gathered around the fire, candles in hand, doing the shepherds dance, and the horn dancers emerging from the woods to do the antler dance. Suddenly everything felt all right again. Laura bore the gift of mirth.

The Three Kings show up after the fact, bearing gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. The sun is long up, the season of darkness past. Not unlike many men on a holiday, all they have to do is show up. But the tree wise women were there for me in the chaos of the winter solstice when we try to spin an orderly galaxy out of stars flung to the far reaches of the heavens. As always we are the ones who bear much of the responsibility for creating the holiday so it's appropriate that the three wise women arrive before the day. I am grateful for their gifts of Love, Commonsense and Mirth.