Christmas 2010

When I was a child Christmas was a huge event in ours lives. Not just mine, all of us kids. I remember going with Dad to pick out a tree...it was always a real tree for us back then. I never even knew there were 'fake' trees. Some of the other kids came too but I don't remember who they were now.

I never knew where it was that we went but I remember trekking through the woods somewhere and Dad actually cutting the tree down. I also remember Mom being upset when the tree Dad brought home was too much of a monster to fit in the house! I believe he ended up having to cut a lot off the top of that tree and then it was up to the rest of us to make it look beautiful with the decorations.


There was something inherently wholesome about Christmas when I was young. We believed in Santa and were never disappointed if we didn't get what we wished for...because the gifts we did get were still fabulous to us and I don't recall ever asking for anything in particular anyway. The only Santa we ever saw before Christmas was associated with the volunteer Fire Dept and of course Dad knew the guy playing Santa...whoever fit the costume the best. We all took turns sitting on Santa's lap of course but I don't believe there were any pictures taken...at least I've never seen any.

It feels like we always had a white Christmas too. I'm sure that's not true, but that's the way I remember it. And probably the reason we never asked for anything in particular for Christmas was because our tv watching was very limited. We watched tv at night before going to bed and we watched whatever Mom and Dad allowed us to watch....usually shows like Ed Sullivan and Red Skelton...or possibly The Honeymooners. We weren't exposed to a lot of commercials displaying the latest toys and we knew better than to beg for that stuff anyway. It never would occur to us to ask for the stuff we saw on tv.

For the most part we were 'thrown outside' to play every day. I don't know exactly why I say it that way because there certainly was no actual throwing going on. Mom had too many of us...she'd never have had the energy to throw each child out the door. And how exhausting would it be to also keep catching the ones trying to sneak back in and tossing them out again?!
Yet we were sent outside every day and on weekends it was for most of the day too. We only came back to eat lunch; or dinner or if someone got hurt bad enough that it needed medical attention. These were the days that we played in the massive amounts of snow that seemed to be everywhere.

We'd make forts and stage snowball fights...often against unsuspecting victims. We'd make snowmen that would last for weeks..although they'd sometimes take on a warped and twisted demeanor after being exposed to sunshine all day. And we didn't use the standard things to make a face on our snowman. We'd use sticks and rocks and stolen pieces of clothing to wrap around his neck or plop on his head. It wasn't unusual for one of us kids to have to traipse outside and retrieve someone's mittens from the stick arms of the latest snowman...or someone's hat from the top of his slightly melted head.

The sides of our driveway were often piled well over our heads with snow. I'm sure now that getting that snow up there was no easy task for Dad but there was limited space to put all that snow. And we never had a snow blower...that's another thing I never knew existed until I was much older and had to do the shoveling when it snowed.
Us kids would attack that huge wall of snow and make it our own within minutes of getting outside. We'd end up with snow down our backs and inside our snow pants and boots but the secret forts and tunnels we created were well worth it. Nowadays you hear about kids actually dying inside huge snowbanks...we never even imagined such things could happen. We never wore helmets and padding when we rode our bikes either and we rode them in the road; on the sidewalk (if there was one); across the school yards and even peoples lawns. Nobody got hurt.

But I digress here because this is supposed to be about Christmas.

Christmas was always about midnight mass too. We weren't allowed to go until we were judged to be of sufficient age to handle being up that late. I think that age was around 10 but I'm not sure. I do remember going with my Mom and probably with a few other siblings in tow. We'd be in the choir area and Mom would sing in the choir. I loved being up so high and able to look down on all the people and watch. I remember one year there was a car accident that caused the church and surrounding area to lose power. There was a little bit of startled silence but very quickly candles were passed out and lit and people held them for the rest of the mass. It was the most beautiful mass I'd ever seen and seemed somehow magical just because of the candle lighting. Back in those days the Catholic mass was still being done completely in Latin so the candlelight mass was a welcome relief to me. I'm told they have a candlelight ceremony even to this day. Nice touch.

Christmas day was always the same yet different over the years. I don't know who was the first kid to wake up but it was usually the youngest ones. And they always woke everyone else because it was just impossible to keep themselves quiet...plus I'm not convinced they even tried to be quiet anyway. Eventually someone would be elected to 'sneak downstairs and see if Mom and Dad were awake'. Of COURSE they weren't awake....it was usually 5 am! When we were old enough to understand the concept of time and parents needing sleep, we were told never to come down until it was light outside. (that only gives you an hour more to sleep parents!) So the elected kid or kids would have to tip toe into Mom and Dad's room and ask if we could come down now and open gifts. Sometimes the answer would be no, go back to bed for another hour (you mean so you could pretend to sleep while we make all kinds of noise over your heads?); sometimes we'd be told we could come down and have our stockings (which were always lined up according to age on the couch; and had our names on them; and in later years were made by my Aunt Ida); and sometimes they'd actually wake up and pretend to be enjoying watching us rip into those stockings like wild cats. Usually it was Mom that got up to help the littlest ones with their stockings. Us older kids were way too involved with cramming the forbidden candy into our mouths to help the little kids. (we weren't supposed to eat any candy before eating breakfast...yeah, right!) Dad would be given a bit more time to 'fake sleep' before having to get up and join us.

Every year the gifts were handed out and opened first....Dad doing the honors. Each kid would squeal with excitement or gasp with astonishment at what they were opening. We truly loved what we got. (with the exception of that traditional orange in the toe of our stockings each year). Sometimes the gifts were too big to wrap. Then the oldest kids would have to wait and pretend that their other gifts were just so absorbing while we waited with held breath and slanting looks..to find out who's name was on the big gift when Dad called it out. Sometimes they'd fool us all and it would be for all of us. A family gift! What wonderful fights we'd have over sharing the family gifts! :)

I remember getting a camera once that took pictures in reverse of what you were looking at. I don't understand it even to this day but I had lots of fun with that thing. And another year, when we were a lot older ( and the presents were more expensive I'm sure) we got a family gift of the game 'Clue'. I think it was a brand new game back then. We played it all day long...swapping gamer players as one would get tired or hungry and another would take their place...even the neighborhood kids got in on it later in the day. I'm sure our absorption with the game gave Mom and Dad some welcome quiet time to themselves.

Mom would always make breakfast as soon as the gifts were open...feeding Dad first. We always fed Dad breakfast first. He was the man of the house, the breadwinner, the guy in charge...and he usually had tons of other things to do so didn't have time to hang around awaiting to start his day. Dad came before us kids...that was the pecking order. After breakfast of eggs; bacon; fried potatoes and toast..we were set loose on the world and allowed to play all day..whether that be inside or outside.

It wasn't until much later in life, when we had our own kids and we'd bombard Mom and Dad's house for Christmas, that Dad wasn't the one to hand out the gifts anymore. I think he had reached a point in his life where he just wanted to watch the fun now. One of us kids or sometimes Mom would hand out the gifts. There were so many of us there was never a shortage of people to 'man the tree'.
And it wouldn't be Christmas unless my Grandmother was there handing out her crazy 'grab bag' gifts. We loved picking gifts from that bag! And boy were there some crazy things in that bag!

I was so caught up in the actual living of my life that I never realized that things were changing...old traditions were giving way to the new ones...the first generation was stepping back to let the next generation take over for them. Knowing it now, there is a sense of loss that prevails but there is also the small feeling that it was supposed to happen like that. Nothing stays the same and change is inevitable. We have to move forward and embrace the best parts of what our lives give us. It's not easy to do...I know that now. It actually is quite painful at times. Right now is a transition time for me...for us...for the whole family. Some of us are painfully aware of it and trying to deal with it. Others are blissfully unaware that changes are occurring under the surface as we laugh and joke and enjoy the youngest members of the clan as they too tear into their Christmas gifts like we once did. I can only hope that these young ones will one day look back at these Christmas memories with their own kids and see it as a joyous treasured time in their lives as well.

Rest in Peace Dad. I miss you.

The Tree

Every year I debate about putting up a Christmas tree. Some years I have one...some I don't. Sometimes I put up 'my interpretation' of a Christmas tree...I've gotten a lot of flack over the years for this but it never stops me. This year I had no choice. Kaylee is living with me so there just has to be a Christmas tree in the house. Not that she says anything about it....or even notices it....but I'm sure she would notice it if it was missing. And somehow it's just too sad not to have a Christmas tree with a young child in the house. So I just had to do it.

So I finally opened the box containing the Christmas tree my friend gave me before she moved to Florida. It had been sitting in the basement sight unseen for the past 2 yrs. All I knew of this tree was that it had lights already on it so (in theory) I wouldn't have to put lights on it. Great! Less work...I like that.

Well when I eventually got the box open...not having realized that it was sealed so tight that my bionic powers were going to be needed...I discovered that this tree was in sections; three to be exact. And it wasn't long before I discovered each section weighed approximately 2000 lbs. (must be very heavy lights on it, eh?!!). Being the only person home and having already created a wonderful space for this tree..I had to complete the job and get that tree set up. (Did I say this was going to be less work??)

Over the course of an hour (no, I'm not kidding!) I dragged each massive section out of the box; around the corner; up each stair (one at a time folks!); and into the living room, where I let the pieces lay on the carpet while the dogs laughed at me and I fought off the urge to start swearing at the top of my lungs. When I was rested (and had run out of swear words in my head) I set up the stand and convinced myself that I DID have the upper body strength to lift each piece and make it fit into the ridiculously narrow hole where it belonged. Having done that...I was very tempted to take a nap on the floor. I fought the urge and started trying to figure out just how this thing is supposed to be plugged in instead.(Hey, I thought this was supposed to be less work!)

It was right around this time that I also noticed that the tree was taller than my ceiling. It had one extra long piece sticking obscenely straight up in the air and bent at an odd angle....obviously mocking me. Not to be out done after so much hard work, I climbed up on the end of the couch and calmly bent the offending piece back down. There will be no angel or star on the top of my tree anyway because I can't seem to find any of my ornaments from previous years and I'm not willing to spend a ton of money on all new ones either. You'll get what I've got tree and you'll like it! (This really seems to be much more work....)

I'm now relieved that the real grunt work is done but the tree looks really empty too. I managed to get the lights going...or at least most of them. I'm not interested in investigating the areas that refuse to light up...that's what the damn tree wants me to do...start checking all the lights. I know how that game goes and I'm not playing along. So instead I made a trip to Walmart, bought about $6.00 worth of unbreakable (in case the dogs decide they like the tree); shiny (because I can never get enough shiny!); glittering (because it's just not Christmas unless you've got glitter in all the wrong places) ornaments and put them on the tree. I did find a little garland and some beads in the basement...put them up there too.

To my surprise the tree looks wonderful even if I do say so myself! There isn't really a lot of ornaments on it and there is not a scrap of tinsel (which is my favorite!) at this point. And there aren't any presents under it either but the lights and the shiny stuff really make it look nice.

Yet not one person coming in or out of my house has complimented my tree....not one! I think people are just so used to seeing Christmas trees all over the place they just don't really take notice of them. Well I busted my butt getting that thing in place and I want compliments....and lets not forget all this work was done for Kaylee's sake. Soooooo every 15 minutes or so I ask Kaylee how she likes my tree. Yes, every 15 minutes! She laughs and tells me she likes it and waits for me to ask her again. She's only 7 yrs old so she thinks I'm being very funny. I can't wait to see how Justin and Sara take it when I start asking them too!!

The dogs are already sick of me and refuse to answer me now.

Flu Aftermath

So, it was my understanding that once you've had the flu you've sort of earned the right to vibrant health, right? You should be absolutely glowing with your healthy vibe!

Yeah, that's what I thought too. Only I'm not glowing at all....I'm not even showing a dim light...and I'm certainly not vibrant. I'm still sick!

I don't have the flu anymore that's for sure but instead of all those symptoms..I've sort of morphed into a new arena of illness, which of course is just not fair. Now I've got bronchitis and with that comes a very odd feeling stomach that doesn't want to eat anything without suggesting I might vomit...it doesn't actually happen..it's just a suggestion after all; yet I still get the hunger pangs just for the fun of it anyway. With that comes some pressure in the old face and occasional shooting pains in the ears and a dizzy head. Lets not forget the exhaustion...pure exhaustion....but that doesn't mean I get to actually sleep. No, I'm kept awake for no reason other than so I'll know that I'm wicked tired. Unless of course I'm on the bus or at work...then it seems I'm pretty capable of falling asleep for 15 min intervals....only to be jerked awake suddenly feeling like I've got a bad drunk going on. Attempts to smile apologetically usually end up as more of a grimace....but I don't care really...I'm just too tired.

Today was my first day back at work in a little over a week. I was actually sorry I went back to work once I got there. I just wanted to go to sleep. And through out the day various people would cruise by be, asking how I am, seeing how I look and deciding I don't need to answer that question after all. Some would make dramatic left or right turns to avoid getting too close to me...calling out 'hope you feel better soon' as they swerve away from the sick zone. Others stopped by (brave souls!) to give unwanted suggestions on what I should do or what I should take to feel better. One actually stopped and said I looked white. I thought I had been white my whole life but apparently I've reached a new level of whiteness. But it's the ones that stop and want a blow by blow description of how I feel and what I'm taking that really tax me. I'm too tired to go into it folks...I feel crappy...can't we just leave it at that for now? I'll let you know everything you want to know just as soon as I'm healthy and well rested...promise!

Flu

At what point do you know you have the flu? How do you tell the difference between just 'being sick' and actually having the flu? I think I can answer that question.

You have the flu when your skin feels like it has a life of its own and wants to go live it somewhere else other than with you. When it begins to feel painfully sensitive and puts you into panic mode at least a half hour before the pain reliever is supposed to wear off. When you wake (assuming you can sleep that is) to the silent scream your skin is doing in protest of having to endure you for yet another day. Another clue you have the flu is when your muscles join in with your skin's protest but are trying to one up the skin at the same time. So there again, if you are able to sleep, that sleep will end rather abruptly with stabbing muscle pain. And to keep things interesting and make sure you are paying attention, the stabbing pain is rotated around the body randomly.

Some of this can be tamed with pain relievers (although not for the length of time indicated on the bottle!) but the flu has to be really sure you notice it.....after all this is not a modest cold and you are not going to be allowed to function normally while it's with you..in fact you are going to be made to suffer quite horrendously until you finally reach the point of giving up...and then you will start (just start mind you) to feel better.

So in order to make sure you are not mistaking this for a simple cold...your hair joins in the act. Yes, your hair will betray you. It will become sensitive at first, almost bruised feeling and that feeling will gradually grow to the point where touching it is unthinkable and looking at a hairbrush makes you cry.

Chin up you little Mary...we're not done yet. You have to have the chills running through your body at the same time that your skin hurts first! Chills make it feel like your skin is tightening and that's just exactly the opposite thing you want your skin to do now. So if you can still walk at this point (and you have to get to the bathroom at some point don't you?) you are now walking all hunched over like a little old person, trying desperately not to have your clothes touch you.

To make this experience even more fun you develop a cough and a lightheartedness that sticks with you no matter what you do. The cough is 'unproductive' and very insistent causing you to jerk around spasmodically when it starts up (usually after you've finally found a comfortable position to be in ) which of course sets off the muscle pains again. Then the nose finally gets involved...only a little bit at first...it doesn't want to let you know what it's up to. It begins to spontaneously drip (like a leaky faucet) at the oddest times.

And then you reach a point of 'I just don't care anymore', you've been sick for a week straight, you feel exhausted and totally beaten...and now the symptoms start to step down in the intensity...just a bit, not all at once...and hope begins to grow. And you think you may just make it through this flu in one piece. Silly human! You haven't had the pounding headache yet! And so they begin to start when you wake in the morning and they're joined by the hacking cough you've gotten so good at....because this flu is not quite done with you yet and wants you to know it.

So you learn to sit on the edge of the bed (no small feat) and take whatever medications you have available and stay there, head hanging, trying not to move at all or look at anything (because somehow eye movement is directly involved with that headache), and you wait...for whatever relief you may get when the meds kick in. And you have a dialog with yourself while you wait....running the inventory of pain to see where you stand (or if you'll stand) today. Does my skin still hurt as bad as yesterday? Does it still hurt to touch my hair? Why is my right arm so sore? Where did I get that huge bruise on my wrist? The chills aren't as violent today and they are becoming localized to the center of my back...is that good?

Until one day the symptoms suddenly become manageable and you finally know you will in deed live through this and in fact you no longer wish NOT to live through it. You feel incredibly weak and somewhat fragile, you still have the cough (that will be a souvenir you carry for awhile no doubt) and a mild but persistent headache (another souvenir) but you also have the knowledge to build your system back up to wellness with good food and hopefully now also you are carrying antibodies from this flu and don't have a relapse in your future. It's still a tiring adventure to walk around the yard with the dogs but at least the neighbors will no longer have to bear witness to your 'sick attire' and avert their eyes while walking quickly in the opposite direction, as you've now graduated to showering and dressing yourself...if not fashionably, at least you are no longer in robe and slippers with a rain coat over it all and a scarf wrapped around your head. Even though the neighborhood is mostly elderly and probably can't see far enough to really get a good look at you...or in fact could be dressing like that themselves...it's nice to be able to feel like you've joined the human race again..at least to some small degree.

I think I'll go brush my hair now..... :)