Did you use to love this time of year, the entire spectacle of it? Getting ready, decorating the house, putting up the tree, preparing cookies…..you know, the whole Christmas thing.
I think there was a time when I liked Christmas, maybe not as much as others did. But I did like it. There was a time when I looked forward to going to the Texas Hill Country, where my beloved father and my heart mother hosted the family at Hearts Home. Where our Christmas traditions, both frivolous and heartfelt, were lovingly embraced? There was a time when my strangely dysfunctional and blended family came together with love, laughter, and acceptance of our quirks, and we felt blessed we were all there, together.
This was the time in our lives when we baked cookies that filled tubs and made rum balls that might have been more rum than anything else. My sons and I spent days taking orders from family for what kind of cookies we should bake that year; we always made too many, yet they were always gone by the end of the holiday weekend. Grandma always got her special order of Russian Tea Cookies in a special tin we selected each year just for her. One year, my eldest was in charge of the Rum Balls; he just kept pouring until he could work the dough; when those tins were opened several days later, you could get drunk off the fumes; they were the hit of the Christmas candies that year.
Christmas Eve was special. Homemade Eggnog so rich it made your toes curl, and the adult version had us all giggling once we got around the entire table with our gratitude toasts for the year. We never did find a dipper that worked, so there were inevitable spills. What we did do, was find a perfect plastic runner that made clean-up easier. The Gratitude Toasts were a special family tradition; every person in the family, from the youngest to the oldest, said what they were most grateful for, and all the
family toasted, loudly then drank. It was inevitable that one of the men would always toast the women of the family, and much cheering would ensue; it was recognized that we were the heart, especially my beloved stepmother, who held us all together for many years.
Another special part of our Christmas Eve tradition was reading the Christmas story. It was always read by the youngest of the grandchildren, and if that child couldn’t read, Grandma read it to that child. No matter your particular persuasion, this was always a special moment for some reason. Perhaps it was simply the connection across the generations.
My family wasn’t big on gift-giving when it came to adults, but we certainly knew how to have fun. The children were given gifts on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning. We played games; we spent time with each other. We ate far too much, and we talked. The most important thing, we talked. For those who played golf, my parents hosted the Valentine Family Open and even awarded a jacket to the winner each year; it was a weird big deal and full of pageantry and hilarity.
I miss Christmas with my family. I miss my parents desperately during this time of year and the kinship they built between all of us, coming from different places and people. I miss the love that flowed through Hearts Home and my gratitude for being part of that.
I think I use to like Christmas. I don’t think I like it much anymore. I hope you are with family and friends this year. I hope you find things to be grateful for and that you tell your family and friends that you are grateful for them, for their company, and that you are with them this day and the days to come.
I have been accused of being abnormal, of not being feminine in my responses, of not being sufficiently emotional. This is not the first time someone has said this to me, likely it will not be the last. My only answer to these accusations is I keep my emotions under control and am not given to public displays, even if you are an audience of one. If you are acting out to gain a response from me you will be sorely disappointed and I will not apologize for this.
when I realized I could not make someone love me, could not force someone to stay and could not change another person’s heart no matter what I felt. There was no point to this emotion, it hurt no one but me. I didn’t do anything to change myself, it was simply I stopped feeling jealous. I still felt angry at a betrayal, at a lie but I no longer felt jealous.
and others in a destructive path. While it might have been justified it was not healthy in its expression and it never ended well. Now, I know how to express anger when it occurs rather than let it burn me out. Now I know how to speak up and speak out. Now I know that to hang on to anger, allow it to become fury, give it free rein and rent in my soul is one of the most self-destructive things I can do.
Last week was full of firsts, in some cases firsts I forced myself into and in others simply firsts because it is a new era and it is time for me to grab life for myself. For anyone who knows me well it is common knowledge I do not like crowds, truthfully I don’t like any situation I don’t feel as if I am in control of. So this past week was not only full of firsts, it was also me pushing my own boundaries and maybe societies boundaries a little tiny bit as well.
QBG_Tilted Tiara 