It has become a cultural touchstone that, since 1997, the world has been graced with the pseudo holiday Festivus, introduced in the sitcom Seinfeld. By coincidence Festivus was declared to occur each December 23. I imagine by now it is appearing on wall calendars.
The timing of Festivus vis-a-vis Mom’s birthday got me to thinking. And I admit up front I am not well versed on the ins and outs of Festivus (for which I don’t apologize). But the contrasts between a faithful Festivus celebrant and Mom’s life couldn’t be more stark.
First of all, with Mom there was no “rest of us.” And certainly there was no in-group Mom ever looked at with resentment. There were only people, made in God’s image, for whom a kind gesture was always in order. On more than one occasion, while out to dinner with Mom, she would not only pay for us (something she insisted on), but would pay for another table. One Christmas it was a family of a deployed serviceman with several young children in tow. While it created a headache for the restaurant to undo a credit card charge and redo it on her card, it was something she HAD to do. And she wanted no kudos or attention. She would probably not like me telling this story today, but it’s too late: she has already been seen and rewarded for it by her Heavenly Father.
As for the annual “airing of grievances,” forget it. Mom gave no place to the airing of grievances, most certainly not storing a year’s worth of resentment and unleashing it on her “holiday guests.” And Lord knows (in human terms) she could have justified letting go with a lot of grievances. If Mom had had anything to do with the creation of Festivus, there would be an “airing of gratitude.” A time in which each of us would solemnly thank God for each act of kindness and ensure that “auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind.”
Lastly, Mom would not be enticed into any “feats of strength” activity because she knew the sole Source of her strength was in the One who saved us and sustains us. Instead of boasting about any strength within her she would deflect any such boast to the Lord. (It should be noted that we can comment on her strength and her spirit in boastful terms, be correct in our assessment and there’s nothing she can do about it!)
So if you are currently installing the Festivus Pole for your celebration, no judgment from m. But the coincidence of this “holiday” and Mom’s birthday should also cause us to take a moment to adjust the Festivus “traditions” into something that honors one another and mostly our Heavenly Father. And in so doing we would honor Mom as well.

Today is Mom’s 92nd birthday.  Mom was pretty low-key when it came to birthdays; definitely the low maintenance sort. Birthdays were not about gift giving, they were about appreciating the person, about thankfulness, and about sharing time together. In later life, Mom’s idea of a celebrating a birthday was to go out to dinner especially if she got to pay the bill.  Mom was always careful to leave an extravagant tip because she evidently believed that the wait staff was overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated.  Growing up, however, birthdays were always observed in the same way.  A few gifts would be given to the child pending the family’s financial situation at the time and the day’s proximity to Christmas.  I’m sure that Tim and Debbie developed a much different concept of birthdays than did Will.  For Paul and myself, birthdays were decidedly bittersweet as they coincided with the beginning of the school year.  For me, at least, I had a hard time looking forward to Septembers.  No matter whose birthday, Mom would endeavor to prepare whatever meal the birthday child thought was their favorite at the time.  She always baked the type of cake and served whatever type of ice-cream requested.  Once, I requested pound cake (still my favorite) and spumoni (who knows why I chose that?).  With its odd color, pieces of cherry, and taste of almond extract, the ice cream did not taste as good as I had hoped, but there was no way I could make such and admission.

The last two birthdays we got to spend with Mom were here in Upland.  For her 90th, we had dinner atAcapulco with Tim’s family and Colleen’s family.  Mom was still able to get around using a wheel chair.  She thoroughly enjoyed the event, and true to form, took a box home with the half of her dinner that she would not eat because she liked the leftovers.  Last year, Mom was not able to get around, so the party came to her.  Our cousin, and Mom’s niece, Jane and her son Tim, surprised Mom at her bedside.  Tim’s family and Debbie were also with us.  In her last months, Mom spoke often of how happy that little party made her feel. 

Tom

1. When I was seven I asked Mom, “Who do you love the most?”  I don’t remember the situation.  It was probably a self-centered question – I was trying to figure out where I fit into the puzzle amongst four other siblings, aged about two to nine.  However, I do remember her answer:  “I love God first, your father second, and you kids third.”  It wasn’t the answer I’d intended but it was surprisingly satisfying nonetheless.  And I think that wasn’t just her creed, it was her M.O.  She had her gaze fixed on God and wasn’t encumbered with brooding about her own failings or the failings of those around her.  (Hebrews 12:1-2)  A couple results of this focus were:  (1) when she was upset with me about something, she dealt with the issue at hand and didn’t dredge up past transgressions (though there was plenty of material on hand had she been so inclined); and (2) I cannot remember her ever speaking evil of anyone.  Her gaze was elsewhere so she didn’t harbor bitter thoughts about anyone.

2. In the early grades I dreaded going to school.  I envied the dog because she got to stay home.  I missed something like 30 days during third grade.  Then one day I heard someone say, “It’s all in your head.”  He wasn’t talking to me, in fact it may have been someone on TV, but I appropriated that and decided my dread of school was all in my head and I could change my mind.  From fourth grade on I had almost perfect attendance.  Another thing that happened about that time was I started going home for lunch, and that may have been as important.  What a break, to have something to look forward to and then get away in the middle of the day.  And it seems like the menu got better as the week progressed.  On Friday it could be:  tuna sandwich on wheat bread, Campbell’s vegetable beef soup, a pile of Fritos and a glass of chocolate milk.  Oh yeah!  Of course Mom was behind it, and I think this is an example of her kindness.  She wasn’t just generally kind, but customized her kindnesses to particular people and what would really bless them.

3. When we took an interest in something Mom would take our interest in it seriously, even if the thing were somewhat trivial and not likely to lead to remunerative employment.  When I was a teenager I listened to baseball games on the radio and “kept book.”  Hundreds of games in some years, in fact in ’74 I scored every Dodger game including playoffs and World Series.  One summer evening I was scoring a game (what else?) when Mom needed me to fetch one of my younger brothers from a friend’s house, as it was already dark.  When we returned home I found Mom had taken a sheet of paper and wrote a narrative of what she thought had happened – including commercial messages – so I could fill in the at-bats I’d missed.  Her account was almost completely useless for that, but I was impressed that she had tried.  And amused as well; I looked at her, she looked at me and we started laughing.

Decades later I visited her in Leisure World and spied an official baseball scorebook sitting close to her sofa.  I opened it and saw she had been scoring Angel games!  Another thing Mom exemplified:  you’re never too old to learn something new.

If we could keep book on Mom’s character, I think an apt notation would be what Jerry Coleman used to exclaim upon witnessing a rare gem in the field:  “You can hang a star on that one‼”  Mom, until we meet again, shine forth.  (Matthew 13:43)