Christmas and family - a mix of the old and new

OK, we're not there yet but it won't be long. It's COLD! And it's after Thanksgiving so our thoughts turn to the Christmas to come and Christmases past. Maybe I'm being cynical but I don't see how any future Christmas get-togethers can match the ones that are now precious memories. Our large family gathered (mostly Gary's relatives--I have only my sister), we actually got along well and we loved getting together at Mom's for a great meal and opening presents. Those days are over for good, but hey, that's Life.

Monday morning came too fast this week. My better half promised to drive his relatives to the Moline airport at around 4 a.m. so naturally we were up at around 2:30. We stumbled around until 3 when the call came that no one would be leaving that day since someone didn't feel well. The plan was to try and schedule a flight for today, but we all felt bad because the whole idea was for them to be together for Thanksgiving. What fun is it to arrive the day after?

Miraculously a flight was snagged for Tuesday, so that morning came even faster because it was an earlier departure time. Again we stumbled out of slumberland, this time around 2:15. Fresh-made coffee was poured into a travel mug and off went the driver into the cold, dark morning. I should also mention that Sarah Jane thought that getting up really early was a fine idea and she wanted to see what was going on outside. On Monday we let her have a peek, but Tuesday we snarled at her to go back to bed.

It's amazing what we'll do to get together for special occasions. We'll fly even though we don't want to face the pat-downs and scanners. Or we'll brave busy roadways and high gas prices to drive to see family and friends, even for a short time. It's worth it to get away from the demands in our lives and simply enjoy good food and even better company.

Our Thanksgivings tend to be small gatherings; most times it's just the two of us. Or three, if you count the dog and trust me, we've counted her for the last four years. We don't always participate in the insane Black Friday escapades because we've found it's infinitely more pleasant to remain under warm covers while zillions of bargain hunters risk pneumonia to get a steal of a deal.

I've learned to listen to my heart to find out what makes the holidays enjoyable to us. Baking is at the top, as is having time to sip hot chocolate with whipped cream while reading a book. Having leftovers after Thanksgiving is pure bliss, and after naps and watching favorite holiday shows we get in the mood to climb the attic stairs and drag down the Christmas decorations. We decorate differently since we brought Sarah into our home, but that hasn't taken the joy from setting up the tree, and all of the doodads we use year after year.

It must be the soft, colorful lights placed carefully throughout the house that makes it feel so cozy and warm. There's a peace that settles over our home as we concentrate on what Christmas means. We make the effort to turn away from what causes us stress and turn toward what brings a smile to our faces and a lift in our spirits.

I'm mindful that the holidays can be a sad time for some. Our family is missing many of those who used to gather for Christmas, and at some point their absence gets to me in a big way.

Something tells me that every one of them would tell us not to let their absence cast a shadow over the festivities. Maybe that's why we go to such lengths to gather with the family and friends we still have with us, to savor every moment together for as long as we can.

This year I'm going to take pictures and videos and I'll write about what we do and who was here, because that's another beautiful part of the season: getting comfy and pulling out the albums and journals so we can go back in time for an hour or so and relive Christmases past with those we wish were still here.

Calendar? What calendar? Oh, THAT calendar!

That's right, the squirrel is looking for me and you know why. You'll need to excuse me now while I go and try to find what's left of my mind.


I like to think my life is somewhat organized. There are calendars and clocks in every room, and the daily planner I keep in my purse is usually promptly filled in every time a new appointment comes up.

That's why the past few days have been so baffling.

Breakfast and lunch at our house are hit and miss, except for those eye-opening and oftentimes hilarious Sunday morning breakfasts. Supper is always a sit-down affair, with the dog sprawled in the "drop zone" between those humans willing to slip her some table scraps. Sarah Jane is awfully partial to mashed potatoes, and we can't figure out when that happened.

Most of us have seen dogs who rip through meat like there's no tomorrow, but this dog has a tummy for taters. We came up with the term "potato pan" and those two words will send her into a frenzy. She must have the potato pan and she'll jump through hoops to get it.

The other night I noticed my favorite big spoon was missing. After checking everyone's alibi, we turned our collective attention to the yellow Lab waiting impatiently in the drop zone. I used another spoon, and supper went on. Afterward, there was an incident. Before she could get the potato pan, one of the guys demanded that the dog give up the missing spoon. Sarah was about to go into a frenzy, so she got her pan and proceeded to clean it. While she was busy, the canine interrogator got down on the floor to look beneath appliances to see if the spoon got pushed underneath one of them.

None of us noticed that Sarah was finished and had turned her attention to the human on her level. By the time we saw what she intended to do it was too late to get out of her path, and our son got head-butted with enough force to rock him back into the cabinets. But hey, he found the spoon.

After supper we all go our separate ways. By that time I've met my work obligations, yet I check the planner in case I missed something. This week I noticed an Avon meeting and a gathering of the Red Hat ladies. Wednesday was going to be busy.

Just fifteen minutes before the scheduled start of the Avon get- together I pulled into the restaurant parking lot and noticed-- nothing. Not a car, a bike or a truck was parked in the lot, so I got out my planner. Ah, yes. The meeting is for next Wednesday. That left the Red Hatters at noon so I rearranged things and went about my business.

At fifteen minutes before noon I went to meet my friends in red and purple. The first mistake was walking into the wrong building, which was easy enough to correct. The next mistake was getting the wrong day; I was off by one. I checked my schedule again but it firmly states Wednesday which means I wrote the date down wrong. If I hadn't, wouldn't the other gals be there? Yeah, I thought so too.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was the one who got head-butted by the dog the other night. I'm afraid to think there might be another explanation.

Surprising conversations around Mom's table

We were trying hard to figure out how to work the new grill that afternoon, and when I saw Mom walk over to it I asked her to act as though she knew everything about it. I think she pulled off the "act"!


By now we've all been experiencing a collective sigh of relief that the midterm election season is behind us and we don't have to listen to all the little boys and girls calling one another names and pushing each other off the playground swings. Whew.

That said, the name-calling was still in full swing when the family gathered for coffee at mom's Monday night. We all arrived at almost the same time, dropped our coats on the living room chair and headed for the warm kitchen.

Banana cream pie topped with slivered almonds awaited us, as did a pot of freshly-brewed coffee.

Then we went and ruined things by talking politics. Just kidding.

We have a way of being able to discuss this volatile subject without ripping one another's faces off, and since it was so close to the end, I don't think our hearts were really in it. So our gaze, literally, turned to what turned out to be the last game of the World Series.

Our cousins live in Texas so a couple at the table were rooting for the Rangers, while I was cheering on the Giants. Hey, the Rangers beat the Yankees and if it was up to me we would've been watching country music videos instead of baseball.

During commercial breaks, mom and her sister were perusing the latest Avon book and I was hoping for a big order. I think Christmas was on our minds, and I tried to hint at stocking stuffers but we somehow got off-track and into a conversation about Halloween. Let me tell you, you would be surprised at what these kind and gentle ladies did on Halloween many, many years ago. In fact, I'm guessing you wouldn't believe me if I told you.

I won't say exactly what went on but it involved outhouses and getaway drivers. They still find it hilarious after all this time and I can only say I'm glad their impressionable grandchildren weren't around the table that night as we all got an earful of their mischievous behavior. Shameful.

As the guys continued to intently watch the Giants pitch the stuffing out of the Rangers and discuss their afternoon disc golf game, talk between us girls turned to telephones and specifically to when General Telephone sold phones from their office on Main Street. There was a time in the 1970s when I got a new phone about every three months, just for the fun of it. That brought to mom's mind her job at the phone company and what happened when World War II ended. She told us the operators had to walk the floor of the phone company, some 18 to 20 feet, and watch for the switchboard to light up.

I got tears in my eyes as she told about the end of the war, and how light after light came on as people called one another. She told us how, after work, she and several of her co-workers piled in a car like so many others and drove around town honking and yelling and laughing. Good times.

That night the Giants won, politics took a back seat, Halloween shenanigans were recalled and more memories were unpacked and talked about as our family found out a little bit more about one another. I can hardly wait until next time.