2011 Christmas epistle

Dear family and friends,

Hey, what happened to the days when I could report on my study trip to the UK, Russia, Ukraine, or Jordan, Amsterdam or Paris? This year and last, it’s limited to the highway between Phoenix and the California coast.

I hope you’ve enjoyed a year of health, prosperity, love, and moments of joy. I have! (Not in the expected ways, however, as you’ll see.) I’ve managed to stay unemployed since June 2009 (a dubious accomplishment), so as you might surmise, finances have been extremely tight. Most days I stay at home, typing away on my old, rickety laptop, researching and writing a historical novel, writing blog articles, or Facebooking with authors, publishers, and potential customers of my novel.

In April, my high school class, who had reunited in Facebook over the last four years, enjoyed an in-person alumni weekend at Thunderbird Academy in Scottsdale. Whether we stood around outside the gym, or sat together companionably during the service, lounged on the patio by the pool, or met for a game, not one bit of it was bitter, fakey, or envious as you’d see in a “reality” TV show. Nope, it was warm teasing and hilarious adventures, tragic revelations that nevertheless brought restoration and healing, with unself-conscious hugs and love. Joy and acceptance abounded. They told stories of losing loved ones, or parents who are slipping into dementia. They showed pictures of their grandchildren. They were not ashamed to say they’d been jobless or lost their homes. And one classmate ratted out his friend when describing their armored escapades while disguised as trash barrel domes.

One summer day at my aging computer, I bit down on something neither hard nor sticky, and my dental crown came out. I made a quick appointment with a local dentist I’d never met, who quoted me $1500 to make a new crown—which I couldn’t agree to. He still charged me $200 to x-ray and chart and basically super-glue the old crown back. I went on Facebook and updated my status with something about the predicament and that I’d have to look into lower-cost treatment at a dental school clinic. (Trust me, a long process!)

That evening, a lovely friend of some years messaged me from the Loma Linda area, where I used to live. She’s a dentist, and offered to replace the crown and do what she could about my other dental needs, if I drove over and stayed with her for a week—with my dog (so I wouldn’t worry about a dog sitter). As it turned out, the old, glued crown lasted long enough to get over there. She did a ton of mapping and exploring (x-rays and exam), restoration, replaced old fillings, all four quadrants of root planing (dental hygiene at the roots level), and seated the new gold crown—all at her considerable expense (staff, materials, lab, etc.). She marveled that I wasn’t crying with pain at the treatments that should have been spread out over weeks, but between ibuprofen and being joyful about the blessing she was giving, there was no way I could be critical or negative! (Well, there was a bruise on my face from one of the procedures, but we decided it was the fault of the oral surgeon who seated the implant abutment. Muahahaha!)

Between appointments, many delightful and loving friends met me for meals out (soup and yogurt for the torn-up dental patient!), a movie, Redlands Market Night, etc. I applied for jobs at the university, met my Texas cousins on the beach at Carlsbad, attended three churches, met some online friends for the first time in Hollywood, played piano for a 99-year-old on her birthday, and just had a blast (if you discounted the hole in my jaw from the oral surgeon removing an infected molar, and the three-plus hours I spent at a low-cost medical clinic so I could get my prescriptions renewed…)

The thing that struck me was how much love resides in the hearts of my friends. They took hours out of their lives to meet me, host me, and of course, treat my serious dental emergencies (Toothpocalypse, I called it). They’re tender and kind and understanding. Several people this year, absolutely Out of the Blue, gave me gifts. Their unexpected and undeserved generosity just blows me away. Thank you, thank you, dear ones. I recognize that the gifts were more about your love and compassion than about the "stuff." But the "stuff" was pretty cool, I won't deny! :-)

The year wasn’t all sweetness and light. My dad and his wife, who live for eight months of the year in Pennsylvania in Susanne’s hometown, came to Phoenix to snowbird in January, and Dad was told his metastatic cancer was at stage 4. He and Susanne went through the chemotherapy treatments without telling me, and I barely recognized him when I saw him at Easter. A few days later, he had a crisis and then surgery, with complications. After two weeks in the ICU, he was sent to a step-down rehab hospital for a month of physical therapy to rebuild his strength. They were planning to drive their van back to Pennsylvania, but their church took up a collection of credit card points and pulled off a couple of plane tickets for Dad and Susanne, and a man flew out and drove their loaded van back across the country. They flew out on Fathers’ Day, six weeks after their intended departure. They were very blessed to have godly friends! They haven’t said what their plans are for this winter. Read more about the journey with  Dad and Susanne.

During Dad’s crisis, the owners of this rental house had to do a short sale, as they were under water on the mortgage. On May 1, I was told to be out in 30 days. I called and convinced them of their folly at lost income and the dangers of an empty house being stripped. So I was allowed to stay, but I had to show the house to realtors and clients over and over. Thank the Lord, the buyers were not intending to be occupants, just investors, and I can stay. As it turned out, my Bible study class was praying with me about this matter—and the people who bought the house belong to our church! Eerie coincidence, or answer to prayer?

My brother’s family (Brian, Stacey, Rachel, critters) moved in with me between late July and early December, to get back on their feet in this depressed economy. Brian took work out of town when he could get it. Their son Jake married Brittney in the spring, the couple moved to Texas for work in August, and in late September, I became a great-aunt to Landon Brian Robinson. Brian and Stacey have just rented a house in Glendale and are moving their belongings there. Rachel turns 18 this month.

I’m still readin’ and writin’ on my historical novel about Mary Barrett Dyer and her husband William. Though I have more than 200 pages of single-spaced type, there’s much to be written and polished yet. I don’t plan to release excerpts of the novel, but I started a dedicated blog for the Dyers, and it gets a lot of page views and compliments from other writers and historians, so I think I’m doing it right. The blog (an online magazine about 17^th-century politics, religion, natural history, biography, recreation, food, culture, etc.) is called a “platform” from which to launch the published book. It’s developed a following of people who say they can’t wait to read the book—which is the point. Each article I post represents 12-20 hours of work. http://marybarrettdyer.blogspot.com

I keep other blogs, as well. One is Rooting for Ancestors, genealogy articles and photos; the other is Discovering Love, my devotional blog.

As 2011 draws to a close, I wish for you a new year of health, prosperity, love, and moments of joy—not like mine, but the traditional way! As you hear again the words announcing the first Christmas, let the richness of the imagery surround you: angels of light (not aliens or warriors) giving glory to God in the highest heaven, announcing PEACE (rest, a cessation from striving, absence of war), with good will among and to mankind, on whom God lavishes his grace. Happy Christmas to you.

Thank you so much for being my friend, even in hard times. Your love means more than you know.

Christy K. Robinson and the dog and cats