Here's to 2014

I rang in the new year with my family, in Fernie. In true 2013 fashion, the displays of fireworks were representative of much of my life this past year, and I don't mean explosive and bright.There were no less than 6 sets of fireworks that heralded the new year in the valley. It was impossible to take them all in at once - I'd turn toward the showers of light over town, and there would be pops and crackles to my right. Turn that way, and there were whistles and booms to my left. As I stood on the cold deck, my family around me, it made me realize that my year had indeed, been one firework after another, with me yearning to enjoy the spectacle while rushing to put out any fires that started from stray sparks.As I waited for the celebrations to die down, I wondered when I'd last had a moment of quietude, when I'd last reflected on all the good, and not-so-good things that happened throughout the year.And then it came to me. I knew exactly when.Dreading a quiet Christmas - there seemed hardly any lead-up, any excitement. Stuck in Calgary without extended family, my kids, husband and I decided to go to midnight Mass. I hadn't attended in years - not since I had kids that needed to be in bed before Santa's arrival.Our amazingly talented piano teacher, Alex, was playing the music for the Christmas Eve Mass. It was the push we needed.  My daughter and I lobbied to go, and perhaps start a new tradition to make a connection with the spirit of the season. Our friend Monica joined us. She's a brilliant teacher, and well-known at the parish. She brings light to everything she does, so when I told her we were going to Mass, she was all for it.We had to get there early - my daughter wanted to get a "good seat," one where she could watch Alex, and see the priest and the readers. It was good we arrived when we did, as Alex and the choir played for an hour before Mass. The music was well worth the extra time.Those of you who've read my novel know that one of the characters is a pianist. (This past Christmas is not the first time I've wished I'd known Alex when I was writing Clearwater - he would have been a great resource, I think.)There is a scene, where my character, Daniel, plays at a spring concert. Well, that is the edited version - during the editing process, it had to be changed to a different time of year to fit into the structure of the book. The scene originated as a Christmas scene, a scene where Daniel played my all-time favourite Christmas song, O Holy Night. (I must have 40 different versions of it, in both French and English.)  The song wasn't chosen by accident for that scene, and I struggled with the change - I think it ended up being Moonlight Sonata, but even now, I'm not certain what I chose as a replacement song. (I checked. Moonlight Sonata.)I used to sing (badly) with the Sweet Adelines, and with the folk group at Christ the King parish in Regina. I know how hard O Holy Night is to sing, and I know how hard it is to play. I can only imagine how difficult it was for Alex to play with someone singing along. On a technical level, O Holy Night on Christmas Eve was near perfect.But it was more than a good performance. Sitting in church, with Mary right in my line of sight, listening to that song - experiencing it - I felt, not peace exactly, but more of a sustained moment of grace. At that moment, all the spinning parts of my world slowed and settled and connected. What greater gift could there be, really?I'm still not sure I've had a chance to really process all the things that have happened this year: being published; losing my grandfather; working on a new novel with Joseph Boyden and Annabel Lyon and some wonderful thesis-mates; making new friends at Sage Hill. Readings and speeches and interviews. Teaching my fantastic grade 8's. And last - far too often, last - being a mom.But I had a moment, there, before the fireworks blasted me into the busy-ness of 2014, where all that is important came to rest. I'll be more vigilant in 2014, and will take those moments when they come, and hold them for the length of a song - any song - before letting go.All the best in the new year.Song of the week: Besides the obvious?Patty Griffin - Mother of God - If I could play piano, I'd play this. At least I can sing it...(Also...you know, Mary.)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xLdP_tib-QsBook of the week: The first of 2014 - The Woman Upstairs, Claire Messud