CHRISTMAS AND MORE VISITORS

The whole Pilkington clan picked me up at the airport in Pittsburgh at a quarter ‘til midnight, Christmas Eve. It was great to see them; they were all marvelously awake and happy to see me as well. It’s a good thing Clyde was awake, because he had to drive nearly three hours in fog, dark, and misting rain. Yummy. We encouraged him to keep up the good work, but of course did not volunteer to help him. Clyde kept us between the lines, and we made it home alive.

I guess you could call Christmas Day “Christmas Day,” if you want to. I have many memories of Christmas Day, as I have told you, but this was December 25. It was what it was, and all one can do is walk through it. Clyde, Clyde Lynn, Nathan and I drove to Greensburg, PA to see “Lincoln.” I loved this movie. I liked going back to the happier times of the Civil War.

One of my favorite lines (there were many) was when Lincoln says to someone who is trying to get him votes for the passage of the 13^th amendment abolishing slavery: “It is such joy to be comprehended.” I almost jumped up like a Pentecostal and said, “Praise God and Jesus!” Instead, I turned to Clyde and whispered, “Ain’t that the truth.”

We had a wonderful meal that evening, and managed a few laughs. (I saw a few people laugh on-screen in the “Lincoln” movie—even Lincoln—so that proves people can laugh during wartime. I find that a little wine helps the miracle along.)

Jake and Richard Schnader, from Lancaster

On the 27^th, visitors arrived from Lancaster, PA, namely, Richard and Jake Schnader, whose last names are the same for a reason: they are father and son. They stayed into the evening—an hour longer than they intended—because we were all having such a great time of fellowship. Jake is the young man I was telling you about in my blog of December 9. Jake had such a great time he was ready to move here; his dad had to sort of bribe him into the car.

(Click to enlarge)

Richard and Jake are from Amish country—without being Amish themselves, lucky gents. As I am fascinated with how crazy the Amish are, I enjoyed the many Amish stories told by Jake and Richard during lunch. The Amish go to dreary lengths to be good boys and girls for God, and God gives them no truth; they get nothing; zero; nada; not a single damn fact from any book of the Bible. And then there are “party people” (that is, we who have rubber on our tires) and “sinners” (we who do not observe the wrong Sabbath day)—speaking of folks like Jake, his dad, the Pilkingtons and myself—and God unloads the whole wad of truth—everything He’s got—right into our laps. That’s fascinating to me. It just makes me love the Amish even more.

Two days ago, seven other visitors came, and they will be here until Tuesday. (I told you we should have revolving doors installed here; well, I did not actually tell you that, but I should have.) Arriving was Clyde’s daughter Susannah, her two kids, a friend, a dude, and the friend’s two kids. (I am not too keen on names yet, as you can tell. I’m working on it. I do know several of the names, but I don’t want to slight the people whose names I know not, therefore I will refrain from all names, except that of Susannah, whose name I know well because I have been hearing it so much. But wait! I have just discovered the 12 red plastic cups from dinner last night, with everyone’s names written on them. So I will attempt to match cup names with actual people.

Saved by the cups.

Jessie, Justin, and Susannah.
(In the background is a small sampling of the
Pilkington & Sons online bookstore stock.)

Jessie and her daughters Peyton and Ava
(at this point, not sure which is which).

Justin and Susannah and their daughters Emma and Isabelle.

It is fun having a houseful of people. It is helpful, emotionally. As I know I have told you, if I were by myself these days, I would be in bad shape. I would probably walk back to the Civil War, dress in gray, and look for Gettysburg.

Rumor has it that Harsh—the cool guy from India whose last name possibly cannot be spelled in English—is coming for New Year’s. We are all looking forward to that.

Today, I drive to Ohio for the first time since arriving here, to visit my two sons, Gabe and Paul, and my sister Kelly. I am looking forward to that.

I am trying to look forward, period.  

© 2012 by Martin Zender