If it’s January 1, I am at the home of my friends Anne and Keith. Every year the same cast and crew, more or less, gathers in their kitchen, den, dining room, basement, living room to eat (too much), drink (a lot) and share the first day of the new year. Our common thread is that we are all friends and colleagues of Anne and Keith, but the party has become a “same time, next year” event where it is really nice to spend time even with those people you do not see between times.
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One Christmas my writer husband gave the girls a gift of their own pasts. He went through his old journals and made copies of the entries describing their births, then stories of them as babies and toddlers; he had written down the adorable things they said; he described sending them off the first day of school. Then he copied photos to go along with some of the entries, making a Megan Book and a Katie Book.
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My mother was a truth-teller. Her name was Ruth and she occasionally would scribble a note on a pad with the inscription across the top: The Truth from Ruth.
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Whatever holiday you celebrate, it’s certainly the season of giving. Sometimes the question is not so much WHAT to get the people on your list, but WHO is on the list when you begin to compose one.
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