THE GIFT OF PRESENCE

Are you all ready for Christmas? I am, finally, and feel accomplished with all my gifts wrapped and under the tree. We traveled to our home town for the holiday weekend and are enjoying visiting with family and friends. Christmas Eve brings a few gift deliveries and tonight we will make my sister’s famous Lemon Shortbread Christmas cookies.

Looking back on the last few months, I realize though that I’ve been so immersed in holiday prep, I’ve missed out on actually visiting with friends and family.

Each year at the crack of dawn on the day after Thanksgiving, I’m up replacing my fall decorations with Santas and all things Christmas. This year, our oldest son, Norman, and his lovely wife, Kendra, along with our two adorable grandkids, Sloan and Carter, came for Thanksgiving. One of the things the grandkids have always enjoyed was decorating my tree. It was fun watching them sort through decades of ornaments, carefully putting them on my nine foot tree.

We always exchange gifts at Christmas, but it dawned on me the best part of this Thanksgiving was being present to experience them adorning our tree with memories from Norman’s childhood. We played games, watched the Ducks and Beavers play their last civil war game, and visited this and that.

It could be because I’m in my sixties now, or maybe because my mom passed several years ago, and along with her a lot of my holiday traditions. But I now think the best gift of all is being in the presence of family and friends.

I know Santa hasn’t delivered our gifts yet, but I’m already looking toward the New Year and thinking about how I can be more in the moment with my loved ones. The age old adage, “Your Presence is the best Present” should be the mantra we all follow.

So, as challenging as it might be, I’m going to focus on not being on my phone when I’m with others. Listening to my husband, Randy, when he wants to share a funny story or even his latest political opinion. (Insert eyeroll) I want to participate in the retelling of beloved family stories when I’m with my siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, since so many of us have lost the elders in our lives.

My husband, Randy, isn’t much of a holiday prep guy and doesn’t quite understand all the Christmas hype. Of course, I’d love for him to join in my fun. But he enjoys meeting friends for holiday toddies and watching football. The camaraderie of yelling at the refs and cheering on your favorite team is his favorite gift. A gift that’s hard to wrap for sure but something Randy loves and … will remember forever.

Within my circle of friends, we no longer exchange gifts, despite the fact that I always find the best presents. However, there is nothing like laughing over memories of our adventures throughout the year. Sharing fun stories about our families. Plotting and planning where we might vacation together. Or working out the details for our annual girls’ beach week on the Oregon coast. Again, I’m reminded that the best part of these gifts is the presence of all these wonderful people in my life.

Of course, one of my favorite places to be is in my writing zone. I love being down the rabbit hole with my current WIP, “Willow’s Woods”, enjoying the characters of Stoneybrook. And I can’t wait to start my stay in Cabo where “Chaos in Cabo” takes place. I do know though that when I’m writing I am very not present. I tend to ignore everyone and everything, wanting to stay in my zone and focus on my process. The anticipation of what my characters might do next or where the story will take us keeps me enthralled.

But in the coming year, I do plan to take a break and pop out of myself and be in the moment. I can’t wait to enjoy all the presents in my future I’ll be blessed with by my presence.

Merry Christmas, Ladies of Mystery. I hope each of you, and your families, have a lovely Christmas and a blessed New Year!

A New (for me) Christmas

Some years ago I listened to an education professional talk about her career, which had been full of surprises, not all of them good. She ended with the comment, “Change is the constant, attitude is the variable.” That’s been true of my life, and with my husband’s death eighteen months ago, I felt challenged to watch the attitude. Christmas now looks different to me, and it’s been full of good surprises.

I think of this holiday as one for children. This is not new to me and certainly not to thousands of other people. But this year I’ve had a chance to focus on how many others are like me, without close family and hoping to tone down the holiday chaos and frenzy and just enjoy our friends. 

My relatives, the few that remain, live a distance away. They don’t want to travel and neither do I. We exchange cards and letters, and wish each other well. I’m not alone. I have more friends without close family with children than with, and we’re all breathing a sigh of relief. We don’t have to go to the mall, wrap gifts, find something special for someone we don’t know well, bake and cook more food than we alone would eat in six months, and drive through weather that we would otherwise ignore from the warmth and comfort of our living rooms. And then drive home.

More than in previous years I’ve noticed that this has become a time to turn people’s attention to those with little or nothing. Several groups in my community, some organized and others informal, are gathering winter clothing, setting up holiday meals, getting homeless into shelters or apartments. Their drives for help and support are gaining traction, and with quiet gratitude they’re satisfying a cruel need and helping the rest of us find greater meaning in the season. This afternoon I’m taking a bag of new winter clothing to a drop-off box at a local temple for distribution on Christmas Eve. From the street this morning, during my early walk, I could see the drop-off box was overflowing. I’ll add to that.

Christmas Day has turned into a day of thanksgiving without the turkey and different decorations. I enjoyed the children’s Christmas when I was a child, and now I enjoy the adult version. With the loss of my husband I found a larger community, its members traversing the same changing seas as I am, all of us at different stages, riding a wave or sliding into a trough, heading to shore or leaving it, but all of us seeing and acknowledging each other. To my delight I prefer this new version of Christmas.

To all our readers on Ladies of Mystery, best wishes for the holiday season, however you celebrate or don’t celebrate.

Of Holidays, Memories, and WAY Too Much “Stuff”

I mentioned in a previous post how much I detest the Christmas holiday, but I know that’s not true for many people. Christmas is a special time for those who are religious and for many who have children, too, and it can be a time to give a gift to someone who can’t afford the item or who would not otherwise have a gift at all. But generally speaking, among the middle-class folks I know, none of us need more “stuff.” Excess “stuff” is filling our garbage dumps and destroying our planet.

So, I really don’t like to give an unwanted item just for the sake of giving a gift, and I really don’t appreciate receiving those, either. What am I supposed to do with the perfume I’m allergic to, or the scarf I will never wear? Yes, there’s always re-gifting to someone else, but we have to be careful about passing it on or we might hurt the feelings of the person who originally gave the gift.

When I think about gatherings of family or friends, I have no great memories of gifts I received. Do you? My best memories are all of activities and laughter we shared. I hope that folks who gather for the holidays will do something fun together. My first choice would always be to get outside and go for a walk or snowshoe or build a snow woman a snow dinosaur or something physically active, out in nature.

However, I realize that not everyone is capable of rigorous outdoor activity, and often the December weather is not welcoming, either. So maybe, play a simple game that everyone can participate in, like charades. Or have a gift exchange where each person wraps one useful and inexpensive item, like a screwdriver or a soup mix or a set of cooking spoons, then draw from a central pool of wrapped gifts, and let each person keep their gift or trade for another gift that has already been opened (a white elephant gift exchange). That activity can be interactive, often hilarious, and everyone goes home with something that is at least useful.

If you must give a gift to everyone, consider giving a homemade item like cookies or jam or a soup mix, or give an experience, or even more precious, a gift of your time. You might offer to babysit for relatives or friends who would really appreciate an adult night out, or offer to help paint a room if you know someone who is remodeling, or promise to drive an elderly relative to visit friends, or teach someone who has always admired your sweaters how to knit. How about gardening help or a one-day use of your pickup to haul something? You can write out your promise and put it in a nice card with a bow on it.

If you’re not crafty or a great cook and you don’t have extra time to offer or possessions to lend, you might give a gift certificate for a local restaurant or movie theatre or bowling alley or theme park. Or if you are wealthy, give a whole weekend getaway to someone who really needs it. You can give the gift of a future event or holiday; the gifts don’t need to be immediate. We all need things to look forward to.

Gifts of your time, your creative skills, or an enjoyable experience are typically a lot more meaningful and useful than another piece of “stuff.” Focus on making memories instead of more credit card bills.

Most of us have way too much “stuff.” But nobody ever has too many happy memories. Happy Holidays!

Let There Be Light by Karen Shughart

My husband and I live in a charming maritime village on the south shore of Lake Ontario in New York, the prototype for Lighthouse Cove, the village where my Edmund DeCleryk cozies are set. This time of year in our village activities surrounding the holidays abound, and there truly is something to do for people of all ages: festivals; tree lightings; parades; caroling; shopping and dining opportunities, and a judged competition for the best outside holiday decorations.

 I especially like writing about the seasons in my books. In my third, Murder at Freedom Hill, the crime occurs just before Thanksgiving with the investigation continuing through the entire holiday season. I enjoy describing how the folks living in Lighthouse Cove celebrate, with light-filled activities that juxtapose the dark, horrific murder that has occurred.

Ed, a retired Navy SEAL and former police chief, now works as a criminal consultant who is hired by the current police chief to solve the crime. His wife, Annie, head of the local historical society and museum, curates exhibits, organizes special events, and because of the historical backstories that frame each crime, often becomes involved in the investigation.

One of these special events occurs early in December, when the days are short and darkness prevails. A Festival of Lights, held on the grounds of the museum, provides diverse groups with an opportunity to showcase the ways in which light plays an important role in their cultures during this time of year:

Photo courtesy of Lyle Shughart

“The Holiday Festival of Lights was held in the park next to the museum the following Saturday evening and started at dusk. Tall stadium field lights provided illumination, and the museum staff and volunteers had strung multi-colored holiday lights on bushes and around tree trunks. Several portable fire pits had been placed at strategic spots near park benches to provide warmth.

The Neighborhood Association maintained a booth that offered free hot chocolate and cookies. Other booths, with representatives from local Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and Hindu congregations, offered information about their holiday customs including the significance of light, and samples of traditional holiday food.

Santa ambled through the crowd passing out wrapped red and white candy. A group from near Tug Hill brought live reindeer, tame enough to pet. Children hopped on the back of a fire truck, a huge wreath on its hood, for a ride around the block, speakers blaring seasonal winter songs.

A large evergreen tree located in the middle of the park was festooned with multi-colored lights; a Chanukah menorah, Kwanzaa kinara, and clay diyas—oil lamps representing the Hindu holiday of Diwali—flanked the tree on large tables on either side.

Towards the end of the evening, the high school student chorus handed out sheets for a sing-along and led the community in a diverse selection of melodies representing all the groups at the festival.”

A definition of the symbolism of light from the National Gallery of the UK states: “Across cultures, light is an ancient symbol of understanding and intellectual thought: it is the opposite of ignorance, or darkness. Almost universally, the dark is …frightening and sinister, associated with things we cannot understand. Light is said to conquer darkness and to bring order out of chaos.”

We all need a little light in our lives this time of year, so, let there be light!

Guest Blogger ~ donalee Moulton

In the right place

Céad míle fáilte. This Gaelic expression means “a hundred thousand welcomes.” If you live in Nova Scotia, as I do, this is an expression you will have seen for much of your life. (Pronouncing it is a different issue altogether.) A hundred thousand welcomes in any language speaks to the type of people you are likely to encounter when you come here and the values they place on such encounters.

Riel Brava – attractive, razor-sharp, ambitious, and something much more –

is the lead character in my new mystery, Hung Out to Die. He lives in Elmsdale, Nova Scotia, about a 40-minute drive from Halifax, the province’s capital. In East Coast parlance, Riel is a come from away.

Raised in Santa Barbara, California, Riel has been transplanted to Nova Scotia where he is CEO of the Canadian Cannabis Corporation – one of the estimated four to twelve percent of CEO’s who are psychopath. It’s business as usual until Riel finds his world hanging by a thread.

Riel resists the hunt to catch a killer. Detective Lin Raynes draws the reluctant CEO into the investigation, and the seeds of an unexpected and unusual friendship are sown. Ultimately, Riel finds himself on the butt end of a rifle in the ribs and a long drive to the middle of Nowhere, Nova Scotia.

Fact is, I could have placed Riel in the middle of anywhere. The murder is not location specific. The victim does not fall from the Brooklyn Bridge or mysteriously appear atop Old Faithful, places that are singular. Nova Scotia made sense for me as a writer, and it made sense for Riel as a character. I live here; I know this province better than any other place. I can write about it with ease, and with a personal perspective.

For Riel, who lives uncomfortably in a world where people hug each other because they care and share the pain of others because their brain is wired that way, being in a place where he does not have roots, where he is an outsider, mirrors what goes on within Riel. It’s the right place for him.

Because I am from Nova Scotia, I can also authentically and naturally insert elements of life here. Take the language, for instance. You may discover some new words such as bejesus and tinchlet. There will be expressions common to the area. “Bless your heart” is one you’ll hear a lot in Nova Scotia, and Riel hears it as well.

There is also food that has Nova Scotia marinated into it, as Riel discovers. Turns out Riel is now a donair aficionado. (I am not.)

One of the things I have learned as a writer is that I am in control, and I am not in control. I can decide to situate a character in a particular place, and the character will let me know if that is the right place as the writing unfolds. In the case of Riel, he ends up in the dark of winter at a deserted row of cottages called, what else, Céad míle fáilte.

I did not see that coming. I have a feeling Riel did.

Hung Out to Die

Riel Brava, CEO of the Canadian Cannabis Corporation, just wants to be left alone to do his job and one day run for president of the United States. He has a plan. Murder gets in his way. It isn’t easy being a psychopath.

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donalee Moulton is an award-winning freelance journalist. She has written articles for print and online publications across North America including The Globe and Mail, Chatelaine, Lawyer’s Daily, National Post, and Canadian Business.

Her first mystery book Hung out to Die was published this spring. Her second mystery, Conflagration, will be published in February. donalee’s short story “Swan Song” was one of 21 selected for publication in Cold Canadian Crime, and was shortlisted for an Award of Excellence. A second short story, also featuring the Iqaluit-based chief of police Doug Brumal, was published this spring in Black Cat Weekly. Her literary short story “Moist” was published recently in After Dinner Conversation and The Antigonish Review.  As well, donalee is the author of The Thong Principle: Saying What You Mean and Meaning What You Say and co-author of, Celebrity Court Cases: Trials of the Rich and Famous.

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