The Family Christmas

Dateline: Dec 25 2010


I am not sure how to report the evening's happenings to you, Gentle Readers. Things were simultaneously MUCH better than I expected and a bit worse than I'd imagined. Which was odd, the two things happening at the same time.

Incidentally, some of the Company are now getting drunk and showing their feelings by visiting the bars and so on, and at least I'm not sinking that low, although I did seriously consider a good shot of Drambuie on the way home.

There were tears, but not from me. My mother has finally figured out that saying "I know how you feel" is quite possibly the worst thing you can tell somebody who's had a trauma (or a death). Unfortunately, she had this epiphany in the middle of opening presents when she mentioned that she's finally beginning to get arthritis in her fingers and she was having some pain. Bro mentioned, as a joke, "Well, now you know how I feel!" and she started to agree with him, and then she started to cry. "No, I don't know how you feel . . . " etc etc. Got quite maudlin, really, I found myself thanking God that she hadn't had anything to drink, alcoholically, anyway, because if she had, 'tis certain we would have had a bigger scene. As it was everybody was looking a little uncomfortable while she sobbed gently about how she could never know what it felt like. I dunno. Do epiphanies really always have to be so dramatic?

The night started out with my dear father holding forth on "those damn Somalis" and things sort of went downhill from there. Usually we manage to get him to quit talking about politics but tonight he was determined and no matter who started talking about other stuff, he always dragged it round back to his political views, which, needless to say, were extremely unpalatable. Now, he's not nearly as right-wing as my mother, he's basically an old-style Republican conservative, and at least (if there must be a silver lining) he tends to be intolerant due to financial and statistical reasons. He's scientifically bigoted, as opposed to my mother, who quite simply is a religious right-wing nut job and tends to follow the leader without thinking.

You may notice that I don't talk about politics in this blog. That's because I don't like them. And since it's my blog, we will stay far away from them. I think talking about politics is like deliberately whacking a hornet's nest and then being surprised when you get stung.

So much for that. Food was great, Bro had brought some brined and dried salmon for starters (along with the cheese and nuts and crackers that my parents always provide -- 7 year old Vermont cheddar and smoked provolone, to be sure), and it was FANTASTIC. Not sure where the fish was caught, but the guy who treated it lives in White Bear Lake and he was a friend of Bro, so that's how we got it. Mom cooked a turkey and I did the gravy and my parents are always surprised when I do the gravy, how great it tastes. That's because I actually use the drippings and so on that are in the bottom of the pan, and Mom, if it's left to her, tends to throw all that out with a shudder -- "it's fattening". Well, so it is if you have cups of the gravy, but if you only have an ounce or two, it's not that bad! Because I don't use a lot of the true *fat*, just the drippings. Because she never sees a layer of fat in the gravy itself, she never objects. *sigh* Mom also made her version of mashed potatoes (bearable with gravy) and mashed yams, but alas, for the first time in years, she ALSO made that green beans thing with the onions-in-a-can on top and cream of mushroom soup all in the beans. Ugh. I took the required two bites and let it alone! Too mushy. Now, I've nothing against beans with mushrooms and onions, but this . . . Dessert was almost exactly like an apple crisp but with pumpkin pie filling instead of apples. I liked it, but I think it would have been better served with a nice cream cheese layer underneath it.

Mom made us our traditional Eastern European coffee cake and some ham to go with it, but by the time I was more than ready to go, I forgot to take it with us, so Fish will go over there tomorrow on his way to work to pick it up. Luckily, both things freeze well!

Presents . . . .I got a $100 Lane Bryant gift card (I desperately need new underwear that fits, now I've lost 40 pounds!), a $15 gift card to Itunes, some new slippers which I love (they've got sheepie fleece on the inside!), a $25 best Buy gift cert (also a cute card, from my Bro), a couple pairs of warm new gloves, including a nice pair for dressy occasions, and  . . . actually, I think that's it. Oh, and Mom decided for reasons best known to herself to give us a copy of the Christmas card as part of a present . . . Mom and Dad really enjoyed my baking present and Bro liked the food too, wish I'd known, I would have made him a bigger basket. Ah well.

And speaking of Bro, he'd done a 180' turn about from the sullen, depressed guy he was at Thanksgiving. I knew the second he came bolting up the steps with a grin on his face to hug me that I would have to seriously revise my expectations! I was so happy to see that from him that I almost horribly embarrassed himself and myself by bursting into relieved and joyous tears right then and there in the front doorway. I didn't, though. And he continued happy the entire night, making jokes, smiling, and not being anywhere near as contrary and spiteful as he's been. I couldn't quite keep from staring at him. What a difference! This is the charming, handsome, funny, gracious brother I remember from when we were both young. I haven't seen him in a very long time, years, possibly decades. He told us all that he was working on his attitude -- I guess even he got sick of himself. Really, it's not very PC  to say this but I have a permanent injury so I know whereof I speak, and seriously, there's only so much self-pity you can stomach. Eventually you have to look at yourself in the mirror and say "This is shit, and I'm tired of it -- things need to change." It's sort of a natural progression.

He said his fingers were getting better too, though still painful (I haven't even tried to tell him that with that kind of injury he might have twinges for the rest of his life . . . he doesn't need to hear that right now), and he didn't notice -- but I did -- that unlike at Thanksgiving when he couldn't move them at all, his fingers were actually bending. He was using his fingers. That's the best Christmas present ever! I told him at Thanksgiving that things would get better if he could just live long enough, and I am relieved and humbled to be proven correct. Granted, they weren't bending *much* and he still can't hold a beer or soda can in his right hand, but he was able to grip Mom's hand, a definite improvement. He carved the Christmas Turkey, which he couldn't do at Thanksgiving. I am so pleased. I confidently expect even more use out of them, for him, as time goes on, particularly when Spring comes and the weather warms up, which will be easier on everybody's joints -- including mine too! And of course, now that he's got his head right (even if that doesn't last, it's been enough improvement that I think his brain will continue to move forward), we can all expect good things. I don't know how much function he'll get back, but anything will be better than what he's got now.

My brother is healing -- really healing, and The Chief Fool is home. It's been a great Christmas. Those are the two best gifts I could have gotten, and neither of them were expected or something that anybody could have planned for until it happened. Funny how that happens, really. It's not about the physical stuff. Christmas is about everything else. The unexpected gifts . . . oohhh . . . I feel some lyrics coming on! Excuse me for a moment, won't you?