Dear Etiquetteer:
Thank you for your sensitive approach to difficult issues raised by the holidays. I was reminded of the overwhelming presence of our consumer culture last month when CNN’s third story about the capture of Saddam Hussein related that his imprisonment would have a significant (positive) effect on last-minute Christmas shopping.
Dear Aware:
Etiquetteer can only agree, and point out sadly that the midwinter holidays — Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanzaa, etc. — have turned into expressions of the distinctly American religion of Retail, which we all have practiced in those Temples of Mammon, the mall.
Dear Etiquetteer:
I do get a little blue around the holidays, missing my mother and being far away from my own family. Do you have any advice on how to brighten the days and make them more meaningful? This time of year can be hard, as well as joyous. My child brings me a lot of joy; I just sometimes wish my family could see more of him. And the fact that he’ll never know my mom is sometimes a very sad thought. Is there anything proper I can do to acknowledge my mom and not seem too much of a “downer?” I don’t want to be the one who sucks the joy out of the holidays.
Dear Little Girl Blue:
Nothing like the tenacious merriment of the midwinter holidays brings out feelings of inadequacy and depression in those who do not have the traditional Nuclear Family Holiday Experience fed to us by the media. It is also especially hard for people who have lost loved ones and who live far away from others close to them. Etiquetteer sympathizes with you as you recall Those Who Have Gone Before and regret their passing, for yourself and for your son who cannot know them as you have. These feelings are understandable and not uncommon.
The midwinter holidays are times to share the “old, old stories” from the ancient religions. Could you not share with your child the stories of your own childhood holidays when your mother was with you? Are there traditions from that time that you can renew in your new household? Go back in your mind and heart and bring forth these things which are really your mother’s legacy, through you, to your son.
On a more tangible basis, all sorts of arts and crafts magazines include ideas for making Christmas tree ornaments from photographs. If your family decorates a Christmas tree, why not spend a craft period with your child making ornaments with photographs of your mother and other deceased family members, who can then “spend the holidays” with you through the branches? As long as you can keep it from looking funereal, it will be Perfectly Proper.
Dear Etiquetteer:
I would appreciate your stance on the apparent proliferation of potlucks among adults beyond the age of graduate school. Call me old-fashioned, but outside the church basement and the Fourth of July, I was raised with the conviction that hosts should not ask their guests to bring food. A gift bottle of thoughtfully chosen wine, of course, is always appreciated by the host — but who should presume to expect that their guests show up with (Heaven forbid!) baked beans, pasta salad or tabouli?! Have we lost all sense of occasion, all instincts of genuine hospitality?
Your guidance on this matter will be gratefully received. What is your view on the potluck?
Dear Potted:
Your query reminds Etiquetteer of an invitation received not too long ago from a lady to come to dinner. Politely asking what might be brought, Etiquetteer was startled with her reply, “Oh, the dessert.” On the night of the dinner, Etiquetteer was not entirely surprised to learn that other guests brought other courses . . . and the hostess was still in her bathrobe and had not yet thought about defrosting the chicken to be served as the entrée.
All of which left Etiquetteer paraphrasing Shakespeare: a potluck by any other name would smell like deceit. But Etiquetteer can find no objection to a potluck if guests are told that is the function to which they are being invited.
But perhaps you were thinking of the guest who shows up with an offering of food when you have already prepared a complete and beautiful dinner? Well, how’s this for a surprise? You don’t have to serve it! Explain that youv’e already prepared a lovely meal, and either save it for later, or send it back with the generous and thoughtful guest who sought only to contribute to your festivity.
Etiquetteer’s facetiousness proves the point that one walks on sensitive ground, yes? Could it not be that these food-bearing guests believe that they are demonstrating “genuine hospitality?” Etiquetteer will admit to some exasperation with hostess gifts anyway. Flowers, chocolates, and wine, while lovely and not unwelcome, do not replace the Lovely Note. And yet Etiquetteer encourages you to acknowledge the spirit in which casseroles are showered upon you while refraining from serving them at your table. No great harm is done. Some day you may be unfortunate enough to entertain guests who tell you what to cook for them before they even show up.