HIM: Now that the kids are grown it is a great sense of pleasure when we get invited over to one of their houses for holiday dinners. Between Susannah in Plymouth and Steven here in Kingston, we haven’t had to prepare these five course meals for years. Nancy, forgetting how many years she slaved over a hot stove and oven, always feels that she should be making "a little something" to take along. The thing that I just don’t get, is the number of little ditties she whips up to prove "we’re not pikers." Her shopping list looks as long as when she fed everyone and then some. She prepares an elaborate dessert, a side dish…or two and insists on a bottle, or two, of wine. Me, I look at the whole thing differently. I love the idea of showing up at their house, plunging into appetizers and then plowing into the meal 30 minutes later. After a 10 minute recovery period, I’m usually the one who pokes around the dessert and is first to attack the pies, cake and puddings. When that’s taken care of, I retire to whatever room the TV is located, to watch football. At halftime I head back to the food and dessert for round two, concluding with a Tupperware container lavished with leftovers. That’s my idea of living. I can never understand why she always tells the kids, "I’m sorry for your father’s eating disorder, but you know how it is with him and food." I never could understand what that’s all about, I mean, we do our share with the stuff she whips up; it’s like a down payment for all the other food that I consume. I never mind buying all the stuff we end up bringing as our contribution because she makes so much that the kids send us back with most of it anyway.

I think it’s great that we have kids that can put on such a spread for the old folks. I actually think they like doing it. It gives them a sense of accomplishment, and I’m not the kind of guy that would want to deprive them of that feeling. Of course Nancy doesn’t look at it like that and she gives me her patented dirty looks as I stuff my face. I recognize the look…it’s the look that says, "I can’t tell you what I want to right now but you will hear all about it when we get home." I don’t know why, but that look still scares me, but not enough to control myself. I used to get the same look from my mother or father when I was a kid. They’d say something like:

Nancy must have taken lessons from my mother, may she rest in peace, because I still feel her speaking through my bride. Getting it down just perfect must be a female right of passage.

With Christmas just around the corner, I am already preparing myself for the expected banquet. Wow, with the Thanksgiving feast still rumbling in my belly from just a month ago, and now Christmas…with my birthday just two days later, it is an eaters paradise. Bring it on kids…your eater is ready, willing and able!

HER: If I were truly channeling his mother, she’d still be saying, "She’s not good enough for you. What’s wrong with Carol Starkman?"

He is unbelievable. He’s lined up all his holiday meals by inviting himself to the kids’ houses. Last week, he went to David’s to watch football and ate every scrap of food that David had. The kids weren’t as expensive to feed as he is. To Dan, the holidays mean food and football. We’re lucky the kids even want us around that much.

For me the holidays is the time to look around and be grateful to God for the incredible abundance we have. Those of us living in this quaint little place are so blessed. It’s everyone’s dream, it seems, to live in a small town with all its character and characters, its charm, and its priority of family first. Even those of us who don’t get along would miss each other’s presence. Yes, we would.

I guess I can wax philosophical because the kids have very ably taken over all the wonderful celebrations. When I was young, I was so concerned with getting ready for Christmas that I never had time to appreciate the sheer wonder of being surrounded by friends and loved ones. I shooed the kids out of my way, and hollered at everyone to stay away from the goodies until just the right time. It’s better now. I took so much for granted then, but I don’t anymore.

One of the things I love about getting older is that you reclaim your enchantment with the little things. I guess that when you’re older, you want to remember the beauty in your life. You want to impress it all firmly in your mind. This year I met seven young children in town whose innocence and joy take my breath away. I love the fact that one of my best friends is 95 years-old. Hearing the church bells on a moonlit, starry night is a taste of heaven. All our children and grandchildren are healthy, happy, and thriving, and we’re still together after all these years.

It’s a Wonderful Life is one of my favorite movies, and the one line that makes me cry, no matter that I’ve seen the movie two hundred times, is, and I paraphrase...