editor’s
Celebrate the chaos
M
y youngest daughter has a tiny scar on her right cheek. It’s barely noticeable but every once in a while I see that little mark that becomes fainter every year and I wonder if someday it will just disappear. Fear not—there was no great injury that begot that scar. It was just a moment when an untrimmed razor-sharp baby fingernail met newborn fresh plump skin. A teensy gash on rosy, fresh cheeks from out of the tub, 17 years ago. My husband and I were getting the four kids ready for the Christmas Eve service at our church. All of the children had a role in the nativity scene that evening. One was a shepherd, one was an angel, the oldest boy would play Joseph and hold his new sister for the role of all roles, starring as the baby Jesus–with a Steri-strip on her face. It was just one moment in a comedy of chaos that happened that Christmas Eve. By the time we left the church with our motley cast and crew from the sacred vignette, our boy with type one diabetes was having a low blood sugar reaction that needed quick attention. To complicate the situation, we arrived home to our Christmas tree tipped over in the living room, as if it had one too many rums and eggnog in our absence. A quick tending to the emergencies and the remainder of our evening of traditions when grandparents and neighbours arrived continued without further calamities— what else could go wrong on this night before Christmas? After the rituals of putting out cookies for Santa, hanging their stockings by the chimney with care, and tag-teaming bedtime stories, we got the kids tucked in for the night. Just as my husband and I settled in to take stock of the magic that still had to happen before we put our own heads down, we arose to the clatter of hurried footsteps. We ran up the stairs to see our six-year-old son in his reindeer pyjamas running for the bathroom whilst losing the contents of his tummy with great flourish. I think you can picture how the rest of the night rolled out—we’ve all been there.
At Home on the North Shore
PHOTO BY NORTHOVER PHOTOGRAPHY
LETTER
It seems a little odd to be nostalgic about a scar on your child’s face but for some reason when I do catch a glimpse of the minuscule mark, it stirs something in me, and it takes me back to that night before Christmas when our picture-perfect family on our Christmas card were just us—perfectly imperfect. My husband and I have put a lot of effort in trying to create the quintessential Christmas for our family over the years. I don’t need to tell you that it never goes exactly as planned and, to be honest, I don’t think we really want it to. It’s the unexpected and, yes, sometimes even messy moments in life that are the greatest gifts. It’s not all visions of sugar plums and it’s not the rare times when all falls into place that are the most cherished. It’s the tiny little scars, the little imperfections that make life more beautiful, more real, and more memorable. Last year many of us experienced a holiday that was less festive than usual, but I think it was a year where we spent more time reflecting on what is truly important to us. This year as we begin a season that is a little more recognizable, I hope that you take the time to remember and to laugh at all the things that can and have gone wrong that make everything just right. Whatever way you celebrate this season, may you find and share the joy!
ah! Winter 2021–22
7
