The Return

I count myself fortunate that I have friends I have known for 50+ years. This includes a few who met my parents before they died four decades ago. There are more who knew my husband Mark, who died in 1995. They connect me to him and my memories of him. In the crucible of time, those memories are becoming touchstones of the period in my life when I was able to share this earth with a pretty great guy.

A rich source of particularly wonderful memories is the annual Christmas party that we attended–and I have continued to attend–for many years at the home of our friends, Jim and Barbara. The early parties took place at their home off of Clark Road in Free Union, and after an always fabulous dinner prepared by our hosts, we were invited to share a poem, song or story.

Mark and I often prepared musical offerings for the party, and two of those that are most vivid in my mind took place at the Clark Road house. We prepared a version of a Christmas Blues song, “Santa Claus is Back in Town”, that we learned from an Elvis Presley record. Mark wore a Santa hat and red and white striped sunglasses, and played the piano in the cozy music room while I did my best blues diva imitation–“Hung up my stocking, turned out the lights, Santy Claus is coming down my chimney tonight.” We were a hit.

The other memorable evening was somewhat less successful. That year, Mark rented an electric guitar before the event and learned the chords and a very cool break to Mel Torme’s “The Christmas Song/Chestnuts Roasting” that he arranged to perform with David Anderson on vocals and Paul Shannon on saxophone. By performance time, Paul had enjoyed his whiskey sours and dinner wine a bit too much and could not play a single note without laughing. Mark was beyond disappointed.

Over time some of the faces changed, as did the location, when the party moved over the hill to Jim and Barbara’s new house. Mark’s last year at the party was in this house, a party that was also attended by a special guest–infant James Duva–who celebrated his 30th birthday this year.

I continue to attend this special gathering, only missing it once when I was in Colorado celebrating the holiday with James. I tried to make up for this by flying in last year from my Colorado sabbatical especially for the party. The friends who gather there put effort and care and love into what they share, punctuated with laughter–lots of laughter–and gratitude for being able to be together.

Mark is with me at the party each year because he lives in the memories of his friends. And that is why as I leave the party, I voice the sentiment that he always shared with our hosts: Best Party Ever.