I'll be home for Christmas

Deb and I celebrated our 34th Anniversary a day early, on Saturday the 21st, taking up residence at the kitchen bar at La Campania in Waltham as we have for the past ten years. When we think back at the many changes that accompanied those most recent dates, and the many before, we have enjoyed some incredible anniversary memories. Whether driving deep into the north woods to stay at The Point, on Saranac Lake, or heading out to The Inn at Little Washington in Virginia or our many stays at The White Barn Inn in Kennebunk, our anniversary has always been hallowed ground for us, a special time before Christmas to remember the snowy weekend in 1985 in New Canaan when we departed our wedding reception in a blizzard with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and two turkey sandwiches under the driver's seat (we had a very savvy caterer), leaving our tickets and travel documents behind at Debbie’s parents so that her Dad could have a post-wedding emergency the following morning. We only learned in Montreux, Switzerland, in a tiny (and cold) Anglican church days after our wedding, how lonely we were for our Christmas traditions and the families that nurtured those memories.

Our wedding quilt, presented by Deb's Mom (left) and Aunt Sue at our rehearsal dinner, hosted by Priscilla and Howard Williams, at the Silvermine Tavern in Connecticut.

Preparing to serve our wedding cake, lovingly baked by Stu's Aunt Alice (Pike) and somehow transported safely from Maine to New Canaan. Note: the club where we held the reception kept a back-up in the event of disaster. My words were brief (for a change).

So, as our children return home for Christmas, our gratitude is directed at the memories we are creating in these current times: a dear friend organizing a “sleepover” with Deb while I was in Texas, our small group at church holding our hands and praying with and for us and reinforcing our hope, dancing at a friend's daughter's wedding, our individual “call a friend” telephone support network that crisscrosses the country, the night last week when our home was turned into a raucous "soup kitchen" with the “ski wives”, the many beautiful notes of encouragement from all of you, the frequent texts from Deb's Chickees, and today...the day before Christmas as we are all gathered under one roof. You are our Christmas angels.

We approach Christmas with great anticipation, taking in the words of this mysterious season when the Word entered the world as a child and its triumphant presence changed the course of human history. A vast year of possibility lies ahead. Two weeks ago we learned of a positive drug trial at the Healey Center for which we hope to learn more details at Deb’s next visit with her doctor on December 31. In support of their work, we made our annual charitable contribution to the doctors and researchers at Healey, in the form of a single gift in Deb’s honor, something we have never done and for which our handful of organizations will hopefully forgive us. The team at Healey holds our physical care in its loving hands, and our faith and friends and family hold our hearts in their hands as we close this 34th year together and look with great hope into our 35th.

As we paid the check at our anniversary dinner on Saturday, I shared our story (briefly) with the young woman who waited on us during the evening. She was young, an Iowa native moved to Boston to be with her boyfriend who was a management consultant applying to business schools and hoping that Northwestern or Chicago would accept him so that they could return to Chicago to be near her family and home. I explained that our wedding date originally was set to coincide with our own plan to be in business school in Charlottesville, Virginia, a plan we changed just months before the wedding to move to Boston from New York, much to Deb’s mother’s consternation. And then I explained our present situation, and how life presents unexpected turns, encouraging her to “close the deal” if this young man had the character she sought to go the distance and move on with her life with her beloved. It seems sometimes like we are increasingly raising generations seeking perfectibility when our own life's journey and witness is a study in something quite the opposite. It is unlikely we will know how that couple's story turns out, but I hope they both seize the precious days in front of them and race into the future with faith and hope. We stand on His shoulders.

Deb and her Mom on top of Mount Cardigan. Mimi was not able to be with us for Christmas in Bedford, remaining in Peterborough, NH.