In Praise of November

Now that the “Christmas season” seems to begin the moment the last trick-or-treater toddles off into the sunset, it would be easy to glide right through November without pausing. But I will go down fighting to preserve November as being special in its own right. It's not a sparkly, showy month, but it has a quiet dignity all its own—an air of remembrance, reflection, and gratitude.

I was thinking about this recently after spending a day with my coworkers at the library’s annual all-staff inservice. I feel so lucky to be working with people like this—they are talented and smart, funny and kind. They love books and art and knowledge. They believe in the library’s mission with all their hearts, and they never stop working to make sure they are delivering the best possible service to our community.

It’s not just that I'm thankful to have a job during these hard times—it’s that I have this job. When I started working there I had just sold my first magazine story. Nine years and a lot of stories later, the library job and the writing continue to dovetail beautifully, adding up to a professional life I enjoy and am proud of. That I've made some wonderful friends at the same time has been the icing on the cake.

Also on my gratitude list—the experience of watching my book manuscript go through the publication process. I spent last week proofreading a PDF version of Anna Mei, helping make sure all the quotes were closed and the commas were in the right places. It’s all typeset and paginated, ready to go to press in December. I feel like Geppetto watching Pinnochio become a real boy—my little character is coming to life right before my eyes!

Then in the middle of all this bounty I got an email about the story I submitted to Chicken Soup for the Soul in August: “Your story has made it to the final selection round. Only about five percent of the submitted stories have made it this far. The vast majority of stories in this last round will appear in the book, which is scheduled for publication on March 23, 2010.”

Appropriately enough, the book is

called Thanks, Mom. And if you

think it’s probably a nostalgia piece about my childhood and about

raising my own kids… well then, you know me pretty well! Let’s just say that as both a mother and a daughter, I felt qualified to write about this topic. I hope the Chicken Soup editors decide that my story will resonate with all the other mothers and daughters out there (just in time for Mother's Day gift-giving ;).

In the meantime, I’ll keep the Christmas lights packed away long enough to celebrate November. I’ll raise a glass to family and friends, work and home—all the things that matter. And I’ll think of the traditional Irish blessing I used in Anna Mei, which sums all this up better than I can:

Walls for the wind,

A roof for the rain

And tea beside the fire.

Laughter to cheer you,

Those you love near you,

And all that your heart may desire.

Golden Autumn Leaves

Quiet thoughts come floating down and settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves
around my feet.
I touch them and they burst apart
with sweet memory…

I’ve always gravitated toward lyrics like these, the kind dripping with sentiment and nostalgia. I’m especially susceptible to them in autumn, when the passage of time seems less like an abstract idea and more like an anvil dropping, right alongside all those leaves.

With all the kids grown, autumn has really changed for me. The activities that marked the season—soccer games, Cub Scout projects, Halloween costumes, Homecoming—used to keep me busy right up until it was time to start Christmas shopping. While certainly a lot more chaotic, that lifestyle suited me somehow. This quieter, more peaceful version gives me a little too much time to dwell on the melancholy of it all.

Nothing marks this change more sharply than Halloween. When we were first married, Jim and I had fun decorating our little apartment and carving pumpkins. One memorable year we were invited to a costume party. With literally no money to spend, I took markers to posterboard and voilà—the King and Queen of Hearts! Jim was not exactly thrilled with my inspiration but he let me paint red hearts on his face (it must have been true love). We still laugh about those costumes because I had failed to take a very important fact into account—once those sandwich boards were on, it was impossible to sit down. Oops.

After the boys were born, we had the perfect excuse to celebrate
Halloween, putting scarecrows on the porch, going to Boo at the Zoo and visiting the pumpkin patch. We hosted carnivals in our backyard for all the neighbor kids, one of which featured a spook house in our garage. Jim enjoyed putting that together as much as the boys did. Right up until they moved away they were still carving pumpkins and helping give out candy to the trick-or-treaters.

Last year was the first time we didn’t have any kids home for Halloween. No trick-or-treaters, either—our country house is too far away for kids to venture out. We lit candles and watched some old Twilight Zone episodes (that one where Billy Mumy’s dead grandmother calls him on his toy phone? Still creepy!). But it felt strange, and not in the good, Halloweeny way.

Since then I’ve realized that the best way to keep from getting bogged down by old memories is to keep making new ones. In September, we had a great time with Matthew and his girlfriend Lauren when they visited from Oregon. We watched the sun set over Lake Michigan, hiked the dunes, went apple-picking and saw a Tiger baseball game. On their last night here they cooked us a delicious dinner, complete with apple pie.

In October, David came home from college for an R & R weekend. He recharged his batteries with lots of sleep and good homecooking, and we also managed to squeeze in the Toy Story double feature. It was so much fun to watch those movies with him again on the big screen.

Then we spent a weekend with my parents, making applesauce (and pie!), as we’ve done every fall for almost 20 years. The next weekend we drove to New York to visit Paul. He took us to a farmer’s market, the antiques district and an apple orchard. We had another delicious dinner, this time courtesy of his friend Ardyth (and yes, there was pie). We rounded out the trip by playing Scene-it—Paul is the only one in the family willing to challenge me in trivia games!

So it's been a different kind of autumn, but wonderful in its own way. We made lots of new "sweet memories" I'll cherish. And as a bonus? There sure was a lot of good pie! (I put the picture in just for you, Dad.)