It's been an interesting year. Lots of stuff going on, lots of life-changes. I haven't spent Christmas with my kids in over seven years. (the little cybergoth doesn't count) Frost is right. Paths diverge. My birth family and I parted ways when I met my husband. They weren't fans, and as Hague would say--my husband was in a constant identity versus essence fight. The man he showed the world was not the man he "was".
We moved to Virginia and life went on. People got older, and holidays passed. My family started eating raw salmon in the Hawaiian raw fish salad, lomi salmon--and I started thinking fish needed cornmeal breading and a deep fryer. My mom started a garden and ate fresh--I like canned green beans, because it lowered the cooking time of green beans to half an hour.
Family isn't just blood. It's shared experiences and common habits. It's a lifetime of putting the toilet seat down and stocking hamburger to par. I'd visit my mom and she'd say something to my brothers--an obvious inside joke, and I'd be, "huh?" Or they'd talk about people I didn't know, just like I'd talk about people they didn't know.
When I went back to visit family in Hawaii, I visited someone who thought I was still "that quiet bookworm who sat in the corners at family parties", and I stood there--mouth open. Memory stops with contact. To him, I was still that pimply, moon-white kid with book and attitude. For my mom, I'm still the kid who likes Fig Newtons, green olives and art shows.
I still like art shows, but fig seeds get stuck in my teeth and I've rolled on to kalamata olives.
My kids have rolled on, too. They have habits I didn't instill, and do things in different ways. Minor irritations have expanded like foam sealant. It's taking time to get us back on a family footing, and I'm having a hard time dealing with stuff that would have sheeted off before.
I did get some shopping in.
Because I'm not flush with cash right now, I'm going with "thoughtful" instead of expensive. People who "power" a house in the NW are crazy. My power bills are "car" bill size. Nothings gone out yet, but since I live near the Cascades, I'm lucky everything is underground. My house is warm, and my pipes are insulated, and the smell of lebkuchen and pepparkakor is everywhere. Not so much because I have to have European cookies, but because it's better than a Yankee candle anytime.
6 comments:
You know what, Yodi?
(don't kill me, I think you're going to be Yodi to me for a while...)
...But holidays seem to be, to ME, about overcoming...um, well, ENDURING...misunderstandings with family members. The rationalization and laughter comes way later. WAY later.
(Friggen movies! They are LIES! Dammit.)
I think the recipe for a "fun" family holiday requires 98% parts kid... The other 2% would have to be patience.
Oh, wait. I forgot the eggnog part.
I am growing to be Yodi, Andi--I think I'm fine with it. :)
Boy, I surely wish and hope I get some kind of a kick out of it later on in life. Sort of like those old Emma Bombeck books. If life is a bowl of cherries, why am I in the pits?
The movies are glossy lies.
(eggnog? I still have AMP)
Canned beans - HALF AN HOUR!? Ewwwww.
Quiet? No way.
What's a Yankee candle?
Okay, Alice slammed me on MY blog post because I didn't know a hinge from a hole in the ground. (Nit-pickers. Sheesh!)
And now (please excuse-ith me whilst I scurry about-ith gleefully and all), Alice doesn't know what a Yankee candle is?!
Hah-hah-hah!
(Psst, Paul Revere's great-great Auntie had a candle store, Alice. She came up with the idea of pouring toilet water into the wax just before it cooled...)
Okay fine, here ya go.
Yeah, I'm a brat, but I love-love-LOVE Yankee candles. They smell good enough to eat and I've come close.
I like Yankee candles too, I just can't afford them (well, the car deoderants are fine, and the little tarts, but the big candles? whoa...)
Oh. Yankee BRAND candles. I kept thinking Roman candle. :)
Andi, with a name like Unhinged you ought to know what a hing looks like. Just saying.
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