Andare, Partire, Tornare

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Love and joy come to you

A white Christmas for us, startlingly. Although an icy and slushy Christmas along with the layer of snow, so we had to be careful last night driving to mom's house and back.

Christmas has been different in the past few years, since Bemo and I got married, dad vanished from the scene, and all this renegotiation seemed to enter our lives. Mom still loves Christmas and buying gifts, but there's no fun decorating the tree with her - she keeps it decorated year round and throws a sheet over it after the season is finished. Instead of having the Christmas Eve present binge in the living room amid the soft lights of the tree and near the nativity scene, we had it in front of the tv set in the family room because mom didn't want to deal with us "making a mess" in her clean zone. If Bemo and I had a place to live, we could do the decorating and invite her over to our house, but that's not possible as of yet.

It seems strange to feel so blah after a Christmas where we've received some of the coolest and best gifts ever - I do feel a bit of that little kid excitement when I contemplate the new DVD player or my gorgeous charm bracelet. But the best part of the evening, really, was spending time with my little sis at my house, where we broke in the new DVD player with a showing of Love's Labour's Lost and just had a good time hanging out with each other. That's really what I love the most - social time with family and friends. Part of that will be had this Sunday, when Chessica and I head up to York, PA to meet Kateh and Lil' Kristine, and part of it has already been had with the hanging out at Persia's with her, Bemo, and Cherbear. So I guess I'm just complaining because I haven't had the entire carol-singing, hot-chocolate-quaffing, holly-out-the-ass Christmas experience. I didn't even go to church this morning because I felt so horrid - this sinus thing is refusing to budge and my left ear is aching. I guess the coziest moment this morning was lying in bed snuggled against Bemo, with a cat stretched out against my leg and the other one perched on my hip, her small grey face squinched in sleep.

Reestablishing Christmas traditions will have to wait until Bemo and I are in a house of our own, and that's simply how it's going to have to be.

Merry Christmas, all. Hope the new year is a joyful one.

1:19 p.m. - 2002-12-25

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