One of my two dearest friends once told me that the two of them thought I had always had an air of entitlement. This was a shock to me as from the inside out, I’ve always felt like I had to earn every bit of success or recognition I’ve ever received and that I’ve worked hard towards it. In trying to remember the exact conversation that led up to this statement, I have remembered that I had written an angry letter to my boyfriend who had totally overlooked my birthday, merely jotting his name down on a card someone else had provided for my birthday party. Luckily, I decided to read the letter to my friend before sending it to my boyfriend, and the statement above was her reaction to my complete disappointment in that. (No, I never did send the letter.)
Let me say first off that I harbor no resentment against my friend for her statement. I think it is the purpose of friends to occasionally bring these blunt truths and perceptions to light, and there was no malice in her statement––just a wish to furnish me with some insight into myself and to perhaps stay my action in sending the angry and heartbroken letter. She went on to say she’d never had a birthday party in her life. Now that got me to thinking, because I’m sure if I have ever been with her on her birthday, that I would have thrown some kind of a party, even if it was just for the two of us; but perhaps she meant as a child and if this is so––and if expecting some sort of celebration of one’s existence on earth means one projects an air of entitlement––then she is correct, because I am a great believer in celebrations for whomever and for whatever purpose.
Christmas is a big deal to me, even if it means making a crepe paper tree by twisting streamers from a central place on the ceiling overhead down to the various corners and edges of the tiny desk on an ocean liner–which I did when I happened to be on a boat mid-ocean one year for Christmas. Another time, when I was on another cruise with my sister and mother for Christmas, I even packed wrapped presents and a tiny foldable tree in my luggage.
I believe that there are enough days to “rue” in this life, so given any excuse to celebrate, I’m going to take it. On Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, Valentines Day, May Day, Halloween, Easter, New years and Day of the Dead––I’m going to use it as a reason to do something creative and something celebratory. Yes, I admit, over the years I’ve forgotten a few birthdays of friends and relatives not physically present. One other year, everyone forgot mine–even my mother––but when you are with me on your birthday, believe me, we’re going to celebrate it!
Such events smooth out the choppy seas of life and give us something on which to pin our memories. Think back. How many of the best memories of your life involve celebrations of some sort? If I tried hard enough, I could probably remember more childhood events centering around holidays and celebrations than any other factor. I vividly remember the costume party my sister had when she turned 13 and the complete southern belle ruffled hoop-skirted costume (complete with picture hat) that Kitty Reynolds made for Cheryl Lillibridge to wear to it–out of crepe paper! My sister went in our older sister’s prom dress, complete with a wrist corsage and dance book (remember those–with a tiny pencil attached for the guys who wanted to dance with you to sign up for a certain place in line on your list?) I went as Alice in Wonderland, accompanied by my sister’s giant yellow “white” rabbit.
The only photo I have of the party shows me, as Alice in Wonderland, in the foreground, but you can see Cheryl in her remarkable southern belle costume in the background as well as Patti in the polka dot prom dress. Perhaps because we have recorded them with photos, we remember these events the best, but so what? if they weren’t memorable enough to take photos, there wouldn’t be any photos to help us remember. (Now that is a cyclical statement if I ever heard one.) And yes, Patti, I do remember that you are the one who reminded me that dress was made out of crepe paper when I mentioned it in a comment on Murdo Girl’s blog.)
At any rate, I was going to list a number of other examples of memories associated with Christmas and other holidays, but I think I’ve proven my point as clearly as I would have if I were to give twenty more examples, so I won’t. The point is that life is going to furnish us with countless choppy seas. In the past few months, this has been especially true with friends and friends of friends suffering terrible tragedies. In some cases, it has been almost too much to bear, but in the midst of all this sadness, we continue to plan these special life events: Easter egg hunts, reunions, summer camps for kids, special dinners with friends, birthday celebrations, writing retreats and trips to far-off places to visit friends we’ve been promising to take for years. Because life on its own doesn’t furnish us with very many smooth spaces, I think we need to furnish them for ourselves!
Recently I quoted this statement by Will Durant to a blogger friend in the comments section of his blog. It is probably one of the quotes I’ve requoted most in life, and forgive me if you’ve heard it before, but I’m gonna do it again:
“Civilization is a stream with banks. The stream is sometimes filled with blood from people killing, stealing, shouting and doing things historians usually record, while on the banks, unnoticed, people build homes, make love, raise children, sing songs, write poetry.
The story of civilization is the story of what happened on the banks. Historians are pessimists because they ignore the banks for the river.”
I think Mr. Durant will forgive me if I add one item to his riverbank list of activities. The word I would add is “celebrate.” It is one more everyday occurrence between people living their ordinary lives that helps to smooth out the bumps that the “big things” provide.
Billy Sorenson and I dressed up as characters from fiction for our town’s 50th anniversary parade. Why Robin Hood looks terrified of Little Bo Peep and why she looks like the cat who has swallowed the canary is lost in the annals of history. If my sisters hadn’t been fond of very large stuffed animals, I would have been limited in my costume props. The sheep was won for my sister Betty by her boyfriend who spent a lot of quarters and got a sore arm tossing balls to win her favor. The big rabbit in the first photo was my sister Patti’s.
P.S. Remember that little twig in the ground I was sitting next to as a two year old in “Dreams of Flying” ? It is the same tree pictured in the first picture above. It took seven years to grow even that big–which is how slowly trees grow in the dry climate of South Dakota, even though I’m sure my dad or mom probably watered it daily. It would have been that size in less than a year in Mexico.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
You continue to amaze me…. and looking at your photos – you haven’t changed at bit.
Mia amore
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Ha..I certainly hope I’ve changed that smug and predatory expression on my face!
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Awesome. (Ms. Peep, do I detect pantaloons??) All the costumes are wonderful! I am a former prime celebrate-r of m/any things (I was referred to as the religion teacher who has parties all the time), and nowadays I am a co-celebrate-r (I’m game, but please get it started for me). I can hardly imagine your own parties — they must be wonderful!
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My sister Betty worked all summer on my dress, pantaloons and bonnet. I think my mom made my staff out of a cane, some add ons for height and then covered it with aluminum foil. Trying to remember what she added to the cane as I remember it was rather heavy so the bottom would have to balance it.. But perhaps I’m remembering wrong and it was all cardboard and tinfoil..You can see the effect I had on men even then. Scared ’em to death. Still do! Huh, forgottenman? (For different reasons.)
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Lol!
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I don’t throw really big parties anymore. I did have 21 people for Thansgiving and you can see that on my blog. Everyone brought food, I cooked the turkey,dressing and gravy and did the decorations, which is always my favorite part. One of the table decorations was a steer with all it’s cuts of meat marked off and on his back, in place of the cattle egrets you usually see picking fleas off their backs, were several little turkeys. That was fun. The last New Year’s party was a poor taste party where everyone dressed as tackily as they could fathom and brought the tackiest thing to eat that secretly everyone loves. One woman brought hamburger cupcakes with mashed potato frosting! Another had a toy dump truck filled with chocolate pudding and crushed oreo cookies that looked like a drump truck full of dirt with gummy worms coming out of it. Another gals brought organic hostess cupcakes that she had made. Looked exactly like the real thing and tasted better, mac and cheese, a cake with a piece taken out of it before it arrived (now that was tacky). I can’t remember what else, but one woman came in a fox stole complete with head and tail. I wore my underwear on the outside of my clothes and other people just came mismatched. One friend we’ve been trying to dress for 50 years just came as herself as it was pretty universally agreed that she always looked pretty tacky! But, no more huge parties. I enjoy smaller dos now, although I do have film nights and have had two documentary pre-premiere showings at my house that were fun. Now I guess my blog is my party and you’re always invited.
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Aww, thank you. With all your arts and humor and kindnesses, it’s a darned good party. 🙂
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The gap between how we see ourselves and how others see us is something huge. At one point in my life — I must have been in my 30s — I went around asking people how they saw me, asking them to please be honest. It was a revelation for good and bad. Most important, how I saw me and how they saw me was at almost opposite ends of a personality spectrum. I’ve never done that again. I’m not sure I have enough friends to ask … but I no long assume I’m the best person to judge my actions.
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I’ve often thought everyone has something that if they knew about it would straighten out their lives and solve a lot of problems, but I’ve never had nerve enough to tell anyone… well, with the exception of one guy who let it go right over his head–and never had the nerve to ask anyone else to tell me the truth about myself. One woman did one say, “Would you like me to tell you something that will just ruin your life?” Can you predict that I said, “Why would I want you to do that?”
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What fun childhood memories you have revolving around celebrations. no wonder you love celebration so much.
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You are right. A good insight.
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I think you have this cat-got-canary look down like nobody else. You always look like there is major mischief just around the corner. 😀 Here’s to many more celebrations to come!
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Judging by how elaborate the costumes are, your sisters must share your love of celebrating. Karli Sorenson. I love the photos and the story Judy. You were a beautiful child and you do still look the sme.
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One day I’ll publish photos of my sister’s Halloween party. She went as a belly dancer and I went as a cigarette girl! What possessed my mother? Patti was 9 or 10 and I must have been 5 or 6. I’d never thought of it before but yes, my mother did instill a love of celebration in all of us. Xmas was big in our house as was Easter, Thanksgiving and May Day. Don’t know if I included my May Day Story in your list. The title included General MacArthur, of all things. Was Karli in your class? Her brother Billy was in mine, and of course they lived across the street. When Marge died, they had already moved to Presho, but they had the funeral in Murdo and Karli came to stay with us for awhile. Heartbreaking for a little girl to lose her mother so soon.Both of them have come back to school reunions since they were adults. Kind of you to say I look the same, but alas, the last time I looked that unwrinkled was when an acquaintance downloaded a photo of me that was in an online version of our local newspaper, Photoshopped my photo and sent it back to me. Ha!! I thought I looked okay as I was until that day. What a nerve. ;o)
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(Same) Cheryl’s dress is incredible. What gave Kitty that idea?
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I think being Kitty gave her the idea.. ha.
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I was replying to your comment on Fill in the blanks, and the whole thing disappeared. I have been waiting for your response all night. I was going through a little box of photos and things Mom had, and found 2 newspapers that had Doris Haugland’s address on them, so guess Mom picked them up at Mack’s Cafe. The article was priceless. Then add to that the reference to Larry In the marching band, well, what a find.
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Mary, perhaps you inadvertently put my comment in the trash. Look for it there.. I wrote a rather long response. Did you glimpse it before it vanished? Another friend sent me your blog link and wondered why I hadn’t answered as well..I’ve done this myself. It is very easy to hit trash instead of like or approved!
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I want it known that Larry didn’t beat me out for first chair. I caved the minute I heard he was challenging—ha!!! I don’t know why I was ever first chair anyway. I only played every third note!
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I’ll look in the trash, but I had read your response and was 1/2 way through mine when I lost it! Sorry I got your Larry story wrong (wink). To heck with music, I wanted to be an athlete. Sadly it didn’t happen.
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No one in my family was very athletic. I’ve done more athletically since I’ve moved to Mexico than the rest of my life combined..But just zumba, water aerobics and yoga. No long uphill climbs or running back and forth on a field or court for me!
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Good..saves on the knees. I can’t sleep so I read again about your mother’s report and I’m a little confused. They decided to build a homecoming float in Pearl McCurdy’s garage. Then it said they would meet at Pearl’s house today. They were looking ahead because the paper only came out once a week on Thursday. I’m dying to know what happened with the float. The rest if the write up was quite lovely, about the baby and the birds and the foliage.
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Okay, this was a writeup I missed.. Or perhaps it is in your today’s post which I haven’t read yet. I can tell you about the float.. It is a riot. Well, I have two funny stories, one about each of the floats I remember them building. And, I have photos! Give me a link to what you are talking about if it isn’t on your today’s post. I always read through my messages starting with the most recent first. A bad plan I don’t seem to be able to break myself of.
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It was in the same write up of the progressive study club meeting. Larry’s induction into the marching band was at the bottom. Fill in the blanks was the name of the post.
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Okay. All is coming clear. They were saying that all of the women who could (decorate the float) should come to Pearl McCurdy’s house to do so. This was obviously not the years I was talking about, as those were years while I was still at home. I know I’ve written about both of those floats, or rather stories that came from them. I’ll have to see if I can find them on my blog. If not. Sigh. I’ll write them again for you or tell you in July. Can you wait until then?
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Yes, but I better start a list so I don’t forget anything.
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I read one of your blogs and it leads me to another. They are addictive.
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But non-fattening, at least.
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