Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Christmas blatherings Most of the other diaries I've been reading have been discussing Christmas traditions, past and present, and so being the follower that I am, I figured I'd add my two cents into the mix. Our family Christmas celebrations have always been pretty traditional. We do the Christmas Eve thing, where the kids and one parent get ushered off to Christmas Mass and the parent left at home set up the Santa scene. So we'd return home to find the parent in the kitchen putting the last touches on Christmas dinner, and serenely unaware that the house had been Visited until our screams got them out to see the sight of heaped up presents. We'd open up everything from Santa, but presents from relatives were saved for the next day. Things changed slightly when my parents marriage, never the most stable, finally began to dissolve. From then on, it was generally only my mom, because my dad would be overseas somewhere. By now, even my little sister was too old for Santa. But the house was always decorated, and the tree was covered in all our ornaments, of which we have many. I can look at the tree and pick out our favorites - the delicate wooden angels, one blonde, one brunette, with their little golden wire halos, the rocking horse from Williamsburg, the lace Christmas tree from a church bazzar, the mouse carrying Pizza Hut boxes, which my mom bought for me the year I worked there, the clay ones that have been dated by Boop with puff paints or markers, and too many more to count. We had good stockings, too - hand knit ones that had Santa on them (he had a fluffy angora beard) and our name and birth date. We've never met the relative who made them for us, but they're cherished nonetheless. Since Bemo and I have been a couple, Christmas has been a busy occasion. My mom on Christmas Eve, his mom on Christmas day, and maybe, if time permits, a trip down to Virginia Beach to visit his dad and stepmother. Unfortunatly, his family has been feuding since a fight last Christmas, and he is no longer speaking to his sister, who is a control-freak psycho-bitch, and his brother, who is a master at burying his feelings and deals with all emotional messes by becoming more distant and less communicative. You may have guessed that I don't like these people much! I never got along with his sister, but the loss of his brother is sad - but then, according to him, I'm not family since I've only married in, and am not actually blood related! Sheesh! So, to summarize, this Christmas has been hard on Bemo's mom, because of all the sibling infighting, and the united front that PsychoSister and BelligerentBrother have taken against all comers. Makes me glad that most of my family is in another country. Nobody's Christmas is ever the one in the Hallmark commercials. I do wish I had gotten organized enough to send cards to various list-pals, but this is the first year I managed to send them to my mother and best friends, let alone anybody else. Maybe next year I'll have gotten everything going in the same direction. And to close, with sad news - my mom in law's cat, Tinker, finally had to be put to sleep yesterday. She was 23, which is a venerable age for a kitty, and her heart disease had finally caught up with her. She couldn't walk accross the living room without stopping to rest, and her legs were swelling up with fluid. I went with m-i-l to the vet clinic to be moral support. Thank god for the vet, who is one of those wonderful people who doesn't get gushy, but instead tells you the facts in a calm manner, and manages to let you know that your grief is ok, you're doing the right thing, and that Tinker went to a painless end. This is the vet I worked for, and I knew his style from when I was an assistant, and not one of the clients, so I can trust him. But damnit, I wish that more thoughts of death didn't have to intrude right now. Ah, well. We may or may not be giving m-i-law our strayling kitty Gracie. Depends on whether she wants Grace, or a kitten - my bet is that a kitten will be too much work. We shall see...Bemo and I both may not want to give up the Princess! Gawd, this has been a mammoth entry. Much sound and fury, and as usual, not much signifigance. Gork. 11:52 a.m. - 2001-12-27 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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