Month: December 2021

Merry Christmas

Christmastime

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When I was a kid, it meant three things:

  1. My dad was using all of his vacation time at work so we could be together as a family,
  2. We had been practicing at school for weeks preparing for the Christmas Eve service, and
  3. We were going to eat a lot of food.

My brother and I believed in Santa, but Santa and the presents were never that big a deal to us. (Don’t be fooled, we did love the presents, they just weren’t our top priority.) We loved to watch Christmas movies like “Santa Clause is Coming to Town” and “Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer” in front of the popping fire, while cracking peanuts open and eating oranges. Sometimes there’d be popcorn and hot chocolate.

When my brother and I went to a private elementary school, we always participated in the Christmas Eve service. Until recently, I could still sing the first verse of “Silent Night” in German.

Now, Christmas looks different.

We tried to watch “Santa Clause is Coming to Town” as a family, but we had to turn it off because our daughter got scared. (We’ll try again next year.)

We can’t serve peanuts yet because our son would choke on them. (We do all love our oranges!)

We can’t have a fire in the fireplace because… well, long story. Let’s just say we’d probably be smoked out of our house.

And there is definitely no ‘silent night,’ or casual, slow start to the morning. With two young children (the older of which very much believes in and is very much excited for Santa,) it will be a fun, vibrant morning.

It’s different, but it’s fun. It’s my new life, and I love the adventure it brings. I love my family.

Last Christmas was very hard because of the pandemic. Gathering with family was difficult. (If you want to read about what we did or find creative ideas to connect with your own family when distance or sickness keeps your seperated, check out my book on Kindle, Creative in COVID here.)

This year, I am going to cherish every moment with my family even more. I encourage you to do the same. Hopefully next year, things will be even better.

Thank you for following my journey on here. I appreciate you so much!

And thank you for letting me take a pause from “The Mirror.” Don’t worry – it will be back after the holidays! (There will be no post next week.)

Have a very merry Christmas, and happy holidays!

~ Caitlin

THE MIRROR: PART 4, CHAPTER 11 (1900 – 1917)

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Josephine and William had a quiet, happy life.  Judging by the furniture in their bedroom, they didn’t have much, but they had enough.  I loved watching them whisper together as they fell asleep at night, often giggling quietly. 

It felt right to be part of this house, even if Josephine didn’t stare into me as much as most of her ancestors had.  I didn’t feel unwanted, I felt needed.  I liked the peace and love that filled the house and settled in my wood.  I liked that Josephine didn’t glare into me, but instead used me to beautify herself to surprise William. 

One of those times she surprised William, she had a bigger surprise than just a nice dress and makeup.  Months later, baby James was born.  Then came the twins, Sandra and Evon.  And last came baby Marshall.  With each child, the love just grew and grew inside that little house. 

Yes, things were going well.

Then one night, there wasn’t the usual smiles and giggling under the covers.

“Darling,” William said, “I really think I should join.”

“No, dear William!” Josephine gasped, “You’re too old.  Think of me!  Think of the children!  What will we do without you here?  What would we do if you di… if you didn’t come back?”

“I’ll come back, Darling,” he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her eyes.  “I promise I’ll come back.”

“You can’t make a promise like that!” Josephine whispered harshly, tears rolling down her cheeks.  “You have no idea what will happen on the front!”

“You don’t know I’ll be sent to the front.  Besides, we have far superior weapons to the Germans and the rest.  This war will be over in no time.  I feel like it’s my American duty to help it move along faster.”

“Curses to your duty,” Josephine spat, with more vehemence than I had ever heard from her before.  “You have a duty to your family, as well.  Please think about us!”

“Oh, Darling,” William said, with an expression of utter sadness, “that’s all I think about.  I want to protect you and keep you safe more than anything.  If we strike the Germans first, then they can’t come attack you.  Jo, listen.  My conscious will not be quiet on this.  I have to enlist.”

Josephine couldn’t respond.  She just clutched his shirt with two white-knuckled fists, buried her face into his chest, and wept bitterly.  He held her as long as she cried, gently rubbing her back.  He remained silent.  A few tears of his own slipped out.

Within the week, William had left.  From what I could gather, there was a ‘great war,’ and much of the modern world was fighting in it.  I began to hear Josephine mutter words like, “rations” and “duty” more often. 

Although she had rarely bought new clothes before William left, after he left, she quit buying new clothes altogether.  She still put on makeup, but just the minimum.  Her cheeks started to grow hollow. 

She put on a brave face for the children.  They obviously missed their father, but their upbeat spirits were probably the only thing keeping Josephine going on some days. 

The letters from William also kept her going.  Anytime she received a letter from any place that she thought was the army, she rushed into the bedroom and shut the door, terrified to receive the news she dreaded. 

The letters were almost always from William, with updates and forced cheerfulness.  He always told the truth, so she knew how hungry and cold he was.  His shoes were wearing out and often in the winter his feet were numb.  Some of his comrades had developed frostbite.  But always at the end of the letter, he would say, “Each day brings us closer to the end of this horrendous war, to victory!  Stay strong, my dear.  I will be home soon.  All my love, William.”

One day, the letter from William was short.  Josephine read it, gasped, and got a strange expression on her face.  She dropped the letter where I could read it and sat staring at me.  She sat starting, but not seeing. 

Since she wasn’t paying attention to me anyway, I read:

“Dearest Jo,

As you read this, keep in mind that I am writing you, so I am very much alive and able to think clearly.  Our troop was ambushed recently and I was injured in the battle.  When I am recovered enough to travel, they are sending me home.  I will look different, but I am still the same William that you know and love.

I miss you so much, dear one.  I am so excited to see you and the children again.  Warn them that I look different.

William.”

THE MIRROR: PART 4, CHAPTER 10 (1884 – 1990)

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The baby girl was named Josephine.  Jacob had raged when one of the midwives finally gathered enough courage to go into the hall to tell him it was a girl.  He didn’t come in to see his daughter or wife.  As long as the baby was in the room, Jacob slept elsewhere.  Then one day, Jacob appeared.

“I’m going west,” he announced with no decorum.  “I’m going to start a gold mine.”

Carrie’s jaw dropped.  She tried to formulate words, but nothing seemed to come.

“I’ll send for you when I’ve made enough to get us a nice house.  We can start our family there.”

That got a response out of Carrie.  “We started our family here.  We have a daughter.  Her name is Josephine.  And you’re just going to leave us?”

Jacob shook his head.  “I’m leaving to take better care of you.  If you want to bring the girl, that’s fine, but it will take more time to save up enough for both of you.  The choice is yours.”

“The ‘girl’ is my daughter, so she is absolutely coming with me wherever I go.  And as your wife and daughter, we should go wherever you go.”

The argument was loud and fierce.  It was the most Carrie had ever stood up to Jacob, and I was both proud of her and terrified for her at the same time.  In the end, Jacob did slap her and left her huddled on the ground. 

I would not see Jacob again, though Carrie did get a few letters from him over the years.  If Josephine was not in the room, she would read out loud, probably to help her process what she was reading.  He never did strike it rich.  The last letter she received was not from him, but from someone who knew him, stating he had been killed in a mining accident. 

For Josephine’s part, she managed to grow into a graceful young lady.  As a child, she smiled and danced her way through the house.  She made it her job to try to pin a smile on her mother’s face.  Carrie’s smiles were quick and abundant for her daughter, but never lasting.

The lack of a father figure made Josephine shy and timid.  She rarely slept in her own room, but would snuggle under the warmth of her mother’s sheets.  Carrie often paced the floor while her daughter slept, wondering how to make ends meet, how to keep moving forward, but she fought valiantly, and her daughter never knew of the struggles to put food on the table.

Josephine was never clothed with the most beautiful garments – I only know because she sometimes lamented them to me as she stared into my glass while her mother was away – but she managed to keep a cheerful countenance and a beautiful smile.  From what I had seen over the generations, that mattered more than stylish clothes!

As Josephine neared adulthood, I began to detect a slight glean in her eye.  There was a sparkle I hadn’t seen since my dear Elizabeth.  She finally confided to her mother one night:

“Mother, I think I am in love.”

Carrie froze on the spot, staring at her daughter.  “In love?  With whom?”

Josephine smiled.  “William Densmore.”

“William Densmore?  Why, he’s nothing more than a factory worker!”

Josephine’s smile wavered.  “He makes an honest living, Mother.  And he’s getting by better than we are.”

“Doesn’t he still live with his parents?”

“Yes, to save money.  But he’s able to move out and sustain himself – and a family – at any moment.”

“A family?  Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Josephine’s jaw dropped and her eyes got hard.  “Mother!  No!  I love William, and he loves me, but we are respectable people and will live by the Commandment of our Lord!”

I doubt Josephine saw it – surely she would not have understood it even if she did – but I saw Carrie’s eyes cloud for a moment.  Only a mother’s strength could have removed the cloud so quickly.

“Of course, dear, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, I have just heard so many stories of other girls.  You’re still so young and impressionable, I was just concerned for a moment.  But of course, I trust you.

“However,” Carrie continued, “if something unorthodox were to happen, please know that I will always love you, no matter what.”

Josephine softened and smiled again.  “Thank you, Mother.  And I love you!”

The two women – one more of a girl, at the tender age of sixteen – embraced.

Before Josephine turned seventeen, she was married to William.  I watched Carrie write a note to the county clerk to give her consent for Josephine to marry so early.  I watched the tears fall as she wrote that her father had passed away and was unable to give his consent.  I imagined she was thinking about how little he would have cared anyway – or how angry he would have been for his daughter to be marrying a ‘common’ factory worker. 

I couldn’t hear the wedding ceremony, which took place in the large room below me.  I did, however, hear the party that happened afterward.  What joy shook through the house that had been full of gloom and despair for all these years!  What warmth Josephine had tried to infuse into the walls with her childish whims was now fully alive with William at her side.

After the celebration, Carrie pulled Josephine into their bedroom one last time.

“I want you to have this mirror,” Carrie said, pointing at me.  “I know how much you love it.  It’s one of the nicest things I have left that I haven’t had to sell, and I want you to have it.”

“Oh, thank you, Mother!”

They hugged again, and Josephine left to rejoin her bridegroom. 

Josephine and William came back for me a few days later, and I was once again in a house of laughter and joy.  They did not have much money, and they didn’t try to look like they had any, but their smiles and love were abundant. 

I felt at home again.