It’s hard when a teacher retires, a minster moves on, or any beloved advisor is no longer available to us. But they have their own paths they must follow. It’s natural to be sad, but it’s also good to accept changes and move forward. Children sometimes catch on quickly and show us the way.
For Christmas, my daughter gave me a digital photo frame, one of those devices that offers a continuous slide show—in this case, countless wonderful photos from some of the many trips she and I have taken together. Not only are the photographs beautiful, but they are of course also wistfully reminiscent of all the good times we had and places we visited. This year, because of the pandemic, I have stayed home and haven’t been able to visit with people except through phone calls, Zoom meetings, or occasional strictly social distanced get-togethers with Bloomington friends or neighbors. So, my own house has supplied my visits and vistas. I’ve paid more attention to the objects on my walls rather then the objects on gallery or museum walls in far-flung places. Many of these are pieces of art, some created by my daughter, my brother, or others, some simply objects that remind me of people I miss. Robert Burns’ Auld Lang Syne has always seemed a sad, nostalgic song to me, now more than ever. But it helps to have these objects that bring so many people to mind. I’m happy to share these associations with you.
I welcome this Christmas season as an opportunity to honor the trees we adopt as symbols of so many things this time of year—the evergreen, the fir tree, the wonderful trees that serve the planet all year with their essential exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide. O Tannenbaum, how faithful are thy branches.