Rene’ eating her pie
Over the years, the Christmas traditions enjoyed by my wife’s side of our family, the Privette side, have changed. When Rene’ and I first dated (and early in our marriage) my mother-in-law, Mercedes. and my father-in-law, Don, had their six children, spouses, significant others, and their sole grand child, Amy, at their old house on West 3rd in Duluth’s West End to celebrate Christmas. But when Rene’ and I moved to the country in 1984, Christmas moved with us. Over the years, out here on the banks of the Cloquet River, we’ve snowmobiled, ice skated, cross country skied, had visits from at least two different Santas, and watched our kids and those of Rene’s brothers and sisters get married and have kids of their own. Accomodations have been worked out so that now, instead of celebrating Privette Family Christmas on Christmas Eve, we schedule it on a weekend before Christmas that works for most, if not all, of my wife’s family.
Yesterday, they were here in en masse. Greg, Rene’s older brother, Diane, her older sister, and Sharon and Colleen, my wife’s younger sisters, and most of their families joined us for a potluck celebration of family, tradition, and old stories. But things were different this year for me; and likely also for my lovely wife who usually orchestrates the entire event to ensure over two dozen folks are happy and well fed.
First off, this year’s gathering took place on the one year anniversary of the shooting in the Cook County Courthouse. Many of you know that I was the judge in the middle of that horrific event. Now, as I’ve said before, I wasn’t a hero on 12/15/2011: No, not at all. I was simply a bystander to tragedy when a disgruntled litigant (who’d just be convicted of criminal sexual conduct by a jury of his peers) decided to vent his upset with a handgun and shoot the lead prosecutor on the case and the father of the young victim within close proximity to where I was standing, talking to the jury. I think I would have been OK, essentially untroubled by the anniversary, but for two things that occurred recently.
You’ve all read, I’m sure, that the prosecutor in that case is alleged to have been involved in similar, if not identical, conduct to the actions he prosecuted. That news not only threw the bucolic community of Grand Marais into a tizzy; it struck me very, very hard since I’d developed a professional admiration for the prosecutor during the course of the trial and its unscripted aftermath.The news of these new suspicions and allegations against someone I respect caused me to begin to relive the events of December 15, 2011.
Then, just this past week, we learned of the inexplicable shootings in Newtown, Connecticut. Again, coming as it did within days of the anniversary of my own involvement in a shooting, any reported instance of madness involving guns and innocents would have hit me hard. But this one was so evil, so manifestly wrong, well, there’s just no way to measure the impact it will have on all of America, let alone me. Seeing school children in tears, their teachers scrambling to move them to safety, and hearing of the twisted events one man orchestrated inside what should be a place of kindness, peace, and learning for children; well, the affect on all of us is indescribable.
Then there is the personal. My wife, as you can see in the above photo, is on the mend. On Monday, she slipped and fell on black ice, severely fracturing her left ankle. Understand, as I type this, I’m still recovering from shoulder surgery, just beginning the long process of rehab myself. So we found ourselves (once Rene’ had her ankle pieced back together with plates and screws and the skill of surgeons and nurses), two cripples trying to pull together Privette Family Christmas with a dark cloud hanging over the world. But it all worked out. Rene’ had much of the planning done before her accident so there were only a few errands left for me to run.
There are also the factors of age and time to contend with. The patriarch and matriarch of the Privette clan, Don and Merc, both passed on within the last two years. Their absence is obvious and palpable whenever their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren gather, but the loss of Rene’s parents is even more noticeable at Christmas.
Addison and Sara Privette and Mya and Amy Bourdeau
Still, in the face of uncertainty and angst, the gathering came together. Despite my wife’s precarious condition, despite the inclement and treacherous weather (rain, snow, sleet and then ice), and with the help of our son and daughter-in-law Matt and Lisa, our son Jack, the inspired cleaning abilities of my sister-in-law Diane, and the willingness of all the Privette clan to pitch in and bring more food than an army division requires for a month long campaign, Privette Family Christmas, including the relatively recent tradition of playing the dice game for wrapped, undisclosed presents, came off with out a hitch. Against the backdrop of Cook County and Connecticut, for a few brief moments, there was a nothing but love, laughter, and the promise that little children bring to this season in our home.
For that, I am truly thankful and feel truly blessed.
Sue and Cloe Privette and AJ and Lisa Munger
Here’s praying that you have a glorious Christmas and New Year.
Peace.
Mark
