Bittersweet Christmas
In many ways, Christmas of 2009 was the best Christmas to date. When I was pregnant with my son last year at this time, my husband and I decided that this Christmas would be spent just the three of us at home here in Florida. No traveling. If people wanted to come and see us, that would be fine, but we really wanted to have Christmas day–our first Christmas as a family–all to ourselves.
It was a joy to NOT travel for the holidays this year especially after my hellish trip back to FL from NY last year. I like to go home but I don’t particularly enjoy the hassles involved with holiday air travel (it doesn’t help that you can’t get from Tallahassee to Syracuse without at least 2 lay overs.) So because we were not packing up and leaving for 7-10 days I wasn’t stressed out. It was great.
Since we would actually be in our house for Christmas and because it was my son’s very first Christmas spent out of the womb, we did a little more decorating than usual. We even purchased a new Christmas tree (yes, we have an artificial tree; please don’t judge.) This tree is actually an appropriate scale for our living room and we don’t have to prop it up on cardboard boxes draped in tree skirts and fabric to make it look nice if seen through the window from the street. Our last tree was purchased to fit in our last apartment (a decent size as apartments go and bigger than the 5th floor, 2 bedroom abode we shared with our friend David back in New Haven.) That tree was 6 feet tall and skinny–it looked a little sad when we first put in up in our house in ’07 because our living room has a vaulted ceiling. And while in storage in the attic, that tree became snack food for flying squirrels, so yay new tree this year!
My husband and I decided that we wanted to start a few family traditions of our own for the holiday. Aaron’s family always made and decorated sugar cookies, so we did that with his sister and her kids when they were passing through town on their way to southern FL the weekend before Christmas.
I decided that we all would get new pajamas to wear on Christmas Eve. This isn’t a tradition in my family, but I think it is really fun–especially since I wear yoga pants and old production t-shirts to bed. My son even had special Christmas themed PJs! With matching striped stocking cap!
I also wanted to have a really special Christmas Eve dinner and Christmas morning breakfast since in my family those were the meals that were the most festive. I am Polish-American and for Polish Catholics the Christmas Eve meal is quite an ordeal (you can learn all about Wigilia here) and I wanted to have a special meal that night. As you would imagine, traditional Polish food is tough to find in Tallahassee. I decided to totally forgo any Polish delicacies and go for something a little special but not too much work (so Aaron and I could spend less time cooking.) I made this with cornbread stuffing and green beans sautéed in olive oil and garlic. I even picked up some fancy-schmancy little cheesecake thingies for dessert. It was like a Christmas Eve date with my husband in my dining room while our baby was asleep.
But Christmas Eve was difficult. Lots of mixed emotions for me. I had called my brother earlier that day just to see how he was doing and to wish him a Merry Christmas early. He is 24 (7 years younger than myself) and after 5 years of working to put himself through college, he is finally graduating this spring. After an intense semester, he had just come home for Christmas break. We chatted a bit and he told me that my mom had totally cancelled Christmas. No Christmas Eve dinner. No Christmas Day breakfast. No celebration. No exchanging of presents. All because of my parents’ recent separation and the pending sale of the family home. This left my brother with nowhere to go.
I felt terrible. If only I had known that my mom was doing this, I would have gladly paid for a flight so my brother could spend Christmas with us–so he could finally see our house and meet his only nephew. My brother said that he would probably head over to his boss’ house for dinner, so he wouldn’t be totally alone–but my heart broke. I felt like a jerk.
Later that day, I called my mom. It went as well as expected. She said everything was fine, just “different.” My mother doesn’t tell me much–ever. Even though I am 31 she is still trying to protect me from things, always with the aim of not making me “worry” or not getting me “upset” because I am “sensitive.” But her hiding things from me is what ultimately pisses me off.
And last but not least, I called my dad. I put him off until the end because I knew that would be the hardest phone call to make. And it was. He was a little weepy, probably a little tipsy, and we talked about Christmases past– when my extended family wasn’t fighting over petty stuff, when my grandmother, great-uncle and great aunt were still alive, when my aunt and uncle weren’t divorced, when the family business was still thriving, when my parents were still together.
We also spent time talking about the current holiday and how it is a big adjustment for all of us. My dad said several times, “I just don’t understand why this is happening.” That was hard to hear. I do understand why it is happening; I don’t understand other factors in the situation however. But I don’t think it is my place to tell my father why my kicked him out and it certainly isn’t a good topic for a Christmas Eve phone call.
But after the phone calls, I felt better. I missed everyone, but I had Christmas morning to look forward to; my own family’s first Christmas.
My son is 8 and half months and has no idea what Christmas is. Or what presents are. Or why that big pointy thing with lights is now in our living room. All he knows is that he has more stuff to chew on. And that we stayed in our pajamas all day and watched Star Wars.
Though it was difficult, it was the best Christmas I have had in a long, long time. And I think it is only going to get better from here.
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March for Babies
I can’t think of a word better than “bittersweet” for all of this. The calls to your brother and your dad sound absolutely heartbreaking.
My sister struggles with her in-laws but makes a similar point that you do about your family – that she’s got her own family Christmas. Whenever a difficult problem (especially the ongoing ones) comes along she says, “No, we’re a family and we’re doing it this way, *our* way.” It’s a tact I admire.
Lori, I want to share a few things with you. I need to.
1. Thank you for sharing these thoughts and feelings. I had no idea, before reading your blog. I am still combing through this and your other, as time and attention deficiency permit.
2. I probably am not alone in saying either, “I had no idea you suffered from depression,” or, “I feel terrible for not doing (this or that) for you to help,” but, there it is anyway.
3. Since we met, lo those many years ago, I have held you to be not only a wonderful friend with excellent humor, but a model of stability, wisdom, confidence and excellent humor. Perhaps that’s what you portrayed or projected, or maybe that was just my interpretation. Regardless, I still hold that to be true.
4. You always have been an unfailingly kind, unconditionally loving and unceasingly, amazingly creative person. WHen you guys redid your home, I was agog — AGOG! — at your wizardry. And then you and Aaron got procreative, and made Porter! Your Christmas tradition is a winner, 100 percent.
5. We are all going to have one hell of an awesome year, even if it means riding my bicycle to Tallahassee just to bring a watermelon to Bolliwood.
Thank you for the kind words, Kyle. I really appreciate them and number 3 and 4 made me cry a little (in a good way.) Thank you. I think 2010 will be really great. I feel really good about it.