Memoirous

as always this time of year--a repost “December” by James Schuyler December 06, 2012 The giant Norway spruce from Podunk, its lower branches bound, this morning was reared into place at Rockefeller Center. I thought I saw a cold blue dusty light sough in its boughs the way other years the wind thrashing at the giant ornaments recalled other years and Christmas trees more homey. Each December! I always think I hate “the over-commercialized event” and then bells ring, or tiny light bulbs wink above the entrance to Bonwit Teller or Katherine going on five wants to look at all the empty sample gift-wrapped boxes up Fifth Avenue in swank shops and how can I help falling in love? A calm secret exultation of the spirit that tastes like Sealtest eggnog, made from milk solids, Vanillin, artificial rum flavoring; a milky impulse to kiss and be friends It’s like what George and I were talking about, the East West Coast divide: Californians need to do a thing to enjoy it. A smile in the street may...

  Here is a Christmas Day excerpt from  Beyond Paradise  my book ready now for a download. Louise and her mother and several members of the mission are in an internment camp in the Philippines. Christmas Day arrived—my second in the Philippines, my first in captivity. It came without store-bought presents, without Papa, Julie, or mother. Mother mostly lay in bed except for when I took her by the hand and led her to the shower, the toilet, or to meals. She had hardly spoken a word since her outburst about the wedding album. As I looked into her vacant face, I often wondered what she thought about. Was she thinking of Papa? Without Papa she was missing her other half, the part of her that said she fixed good meals, thanked her for being a good wife, held her hand, and smoothed her hair at the dinner table. It was hard watching her crumble a little bit more each day. *** I thought long and hard about what to give Mother. She didn’t need a new cup or bowl. I knew what she wan...

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We greet each other like an echo: Hi Jane! Hi Jane! We’ve known each other for over 50 years. Fifty! Through milestones we’ve stayed connected—if even miles apart. Now separated by a lake. I went through a pile of papers this a.m.—in an attempt to organize, but keep stopping to remember and think. Birthday cards from years past—many of them from Jane. Here’s to fifty more!