2014 Xmas Poem

Christmas 2014

By Nate Bender

The passing years add poignancy to evolving benchmarks,

Notable of which is this years’ Christmas Holiday mark.

Gratitude runs through our very veins,

Acknowledging the myriad blessings we hold dear:

Our health;

Our growing spiritual foundations;

Our connective community of friends;

Our enduring and supportive family ties, devoid of pretense;

Our ever-present quest for truth and understanding;

Our intimate, life-enriching exchange of energy (snuggling)!

The foundation of this joyful time is seated in the love we share,

And the love we carry into the larger world community.

Here’s to continuing our celebrations each and every day,

For the rest of our lives, my dear wife and soul mate…

Merry Christmas and wishing you a Happy, enriching New Year!

Sid Salter Xmas post

Christmas no longer about presents; presences matter

I remember so well the unbearable anticipation of Christmas Eve with my sisters Sharon and Sheila in the little teacher’s home across from the Beulah-Hubbard school in rural Newton County a half-century ago. Sheila, my twin, shared my suffering. Sharon, who was older and wiser, was able to put up a more mature front.

But we all lay awake late into the night, listening for sleigh bells, reindeer hooves and wondering how Santa actually got into a house that didn’t have a chimney.

The rituals were observed. We helped decorate the cedar tree that our father cut in the woods and brought home. Most of the decorations were homemade and the lights were colorful, large and hot.
Momma carefully selected a plate and glass for us to leave cookies and milk for Santa.

There were photos made of the children by the tree in our pajamas. We sang Christmas carols loudly, and engaged in other diversions that Momma created to help us pass the time. My father would make the announcement that it was time to go to bed — and always intoned that if we didn’t hurry up and get to sleep that Santa might not come because he would pass our house and find us awake.

So off to bed we went. I fought against sleep — wanting so badly to hear or see something, anything, that would reward my faith in Santa. But I never could stay awake long enough.

Once, when I was 6, I could have sworn I heard something large and foreign on the roof — but the next morning there was no evidence of that.

Some hours later, usually about 4 a.m., I would awaken, run to awaken my sisters, then together we’d inspect what Santa had left behind. My parents would join us after Momma put on a pot of coffee.

Our parents had a rule that presents weren’t opened in our home until the scriptures sharing the story of the birth of Christ were read aloud by one of us. I think whatever skills I later had in broadcast journalism were born in my ability to speed-read the first 20 verses of the second chapter of the Book of Luke without discernible errors.

When the carnage of torn paper and bent ribbons was over, there was a big breakfast and then off to our grandparents’ home to spend time with aunts, uncles and cousins.

The feast, and it was a feast, would be enjoyed down to Mamaw Salter’slast custard pie. I remember it all — and in my heart of hearts, I miss those days in ways I can’t readily describe.

Mom and Dad, all my grandparents, most of my aunts and uncles and some of my cousins are all gone now. My wife and I are now the grandparents and the destination of four beautiful grandchildren who ponder the wonder of Santa Claus and greater joys of Christmas. They so enjoy being together.

My older sister and I will have some time together with our grown children. Our sister Sheila left our circle in 2006 and her absence has forever changed Christmas for me. But her daughters will be with me and what a gift that will be.

I remember watching my father open his presents back in the 1960s. Another bottle of Old Spice, another necktie, another white dress shirt. He feigned surprise and delight, but there was a touch of boredom in his manner. He was more concerned with watching us open our presents and asked us earnestly if we were happy.

We were — which I think was his greatest gift on Christmas. When he died, I remember finding in his closet enough bottles of Old Spice to float a battleship and boxes of unworn shirts and ties.

All that makes sense to me now, as I have reached the age that it’s no longer the presents that matter on Christmas, but the presence of loved ones young and old mean all the world to me.

Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, I wish you peace and joy during this season. May your Christmas presences be everything you want and need.

Sid Salter is a syndicated columnist. Contact him at sidsalter@sidsalter.com.

2014 Recap

Merry Christmas from Nate

I declare the year to be a winner! 2015 is forming in front of me, revealing an

inviting glow to journey forward. Never have I ever imagined being so happy and

enriched at this stage of my existence!

I’m blessed to have an expanding circle of friends, with the most nurturing ones

being a collection of my Osher Life Long Learning Institute writers group, now

numbering 17 stalwarts. We collaborated in producing an anthology of short stories

and poems, marking my second participation in such a creation. When asked

what I do I typically respond, “I’m a writer!” Sometimes people are even impressed,

and it’s a nice departure from, “I’m retired!”

Our travels have taken us to South Florida, the Bahamas, Washington D.C., Boise Idaho, Salt Lake City, Utah, Iowa

and Birmingham, Alabama.

A major undertaking has involved being assessed for a cochlear implant,

first at the Biloxi VA, followed by the Birmingham VA, where implants

are performed by the VA. Having learned that Medicare covers such a

surgery, I’m now being prepped for the procedure in Jackson, as its proximity

is more inviting and doable. All of this is generating heighten level

of anticipation!

Bottom line, I’m a blessed man with an inordinately compatible and

nourishing spouse with whom to gracefully grow into my elder years!

Merry Christmas from Sandra

What more can I say? I confirm all the blessings Nate listed. Plus—I continue

to grow vegetables and have begun to teach organic gardening. I

am teaching a seminar this spring about how to be a healthy, vital centenarian.

No, I don’t have direct experience, but I’ve read about others who do. We have rich relationships with our children

and grandchildren. We have joined a small Unitarian Universalist church that inspires us. And yes, I am blessed

beyond measure to be growing old with Nate.

Lucy, 2, is melting Grandpa’s heart.

With beauty and grace, Ariana turned 40. Our grandson,

Sachin, wows us with his first grade accomplishments.

Grandma and August, 6, play nicely together.

Samantha, 17, and Max, 16,

will be in college in a blink of an eye.

A memorable experience this October was our trip to Germany to learn more about Nate’s family. His grandfathers and

grandmothers came to America in the 1800’s. We contacted our friends, Hans Jorg and Claudia Suss and asked them for

contacts in the tiny village of Rodheim that isn’t on the map. We were met by Sigurd, an English teacher, translator, and

guide; Helmut, the museum curator and specialist on the history of the area; Ekke, another English teacher, and guide;

and Gerhard, Nate’s German cousin. These people guided us through the region for several days teaching us history and

culture. We visited the church that was built Catholic in the 1100’s and transformed from Catholic to Lutheran during

the Reformation. Nate’s ancestors were baptized and attended there. From there we went to Wurzburg to visit our

friends, Hans Jorg and Claudia to see this classic German city and wine villages at the height of Octoberfest. We felt a

heartwarming connection with our German friends.

Our best wishes for peace on earth and a healthy and happy year ahead.

Love from Sandra and Nate

Mother's Funeral Note

Thank you note to my Mother (upon her passing)

I’ve looked for you

in everyone I’ve met.

Here and there I found a few

who had your faithfulness,

your warmth,

your loyalty,

integrity and joy.

These few became my friends.

You made a difference

with your courageous and gentle ways.

Thank you for the woman you were,

for the woman you were

has colored all my days.

Your son, Nathan Bender