So This Is Christmas
December 28, 2007
In the end all my worrying about Christmas for for naught. It all worked out. Even my mother-in-law bringing over her little oven to cook her fish. The food was excellent. The house was clean. The children were happy. I should write myself a note for next Christmas to remind me to relax. Though I know that it wouldn’t matter.
I have mostly taken the past week off from working. Trying to enjoy things like playing wii with my uber competitive children, playing with new toys, getting my hair done, buying some 50% off Christmas clearance items at Target… Mostly just trying to be present and as joyful as possible in a house filled with somewhat needy people who are constantly underfoot. And I mean that in the best way possible.
Christmas this year was somewhat bittersweet. Several family members are planning big moves in the next year. Moves that they are excited about, and that we are
pretending to beexcited about for them. But still, with any sort of changes comes, well, change. And I hate change.
Our nephew just graduated from grad school, earning both degrees in under 4 years. We are all so proud of him, the kid who hated school growing up. The kid who hated reading. But it is tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that his mother is no longer here to see it. He was her treasure. Not that she didn’t love both of her children, she did without a doubt. But if parents are honest they would admit that in every family of more than one child there is one who touches your heart, who is just easier to like, who gives your step an extra skip, and that child is not the same for both parents.
He is training to be a fighter pilot and is moving away. He will be in Texas for the next 18 months. And after that who knows. I try not to think about that part much.
And so next year Christmas will be different.
As we were all saying goodbye I said to my brother-in-law that it might be the last time we are all together on Christmas day. (Just call me Susie Sunshine.) They drove away and we all stood on the front porch in the freezing temperatures waving them off. Rob and I remarked how it was the first holiday that there wasn’t any complaining. Rob’s dad, a product of the Great Depression, didn’t say once that we cooked too much food. There were more bottles of flowing wine than there were people to drink them, though we managed. There were smiling children, healthy grandparents, and brand new babies to hold. We all enjoyed ourselves.
It was the perfect holiday. One that can never be duplicated even if no one moved away.
About ten minutes later my brother in law was back at the door, having forgotten something. As I opened the door he said, “See, you can’t get rid of me even if you tried.”
“Dammit.” I answered.
Some things will never change.
RSS feed for comments on this post.
The URI to TrackBack this entry is: