Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were a flurry of activity – shopping with my son, taking care of my granddad, writing Christmas cards, making fudge for my favorite Aunt Kay, sending packages to my dearest friends, putting together little gifts for the hard working folks at the lab. It has been years since I “did” Christmas in the states and I thoroughly enjoyed getting wrapped up in the charged rush of it all. The days culminated in a race to the airport to pick up my wonderful, silly, beautiful, amazingly grounded daughter, April. She has been a joy to my heart since I met her little freckle face when she was eight. Hard to believe at 26 she has called me “Mom” for the better part of twenty years now! I watched her blossom from a little girl into a teenager, spiral through her challenged teenage years into a confused young adult and suddenly transform into a responsible, together young lady. I could not be more proud of her.
Patrick arrived last week and it has been the best mother/son visit we’ve had in years. We’ve struggled these last years as I’ve encouraged him on his path as an adult by firmly following my own. We were so close when he was young. It was necessary, though terribly painful for us both, to cut the apron strings that bound us. To see us slowly making our way back to that bond as adults, able to give and receive advice to each other, to really hear one another, to play, and share, and support is the greatest Christmas gift I could have. There have been many ‘thank you’ moments this week. I loved the random “thanks Mom for letting me blast my music all hours of the night when I was a teenager” and the night he stopped in the middle of Guitar Hero and came to where I was just to give me a hug. The best was driving down the street as he talked about the woman he is thinking of marrying and the children he wants to have. “It scares me,” he said. “Being a parent is so hard. I only hope I will be as good a parent to them as you were to me.” Wow….
April and I raced back from the airport to pick up Patrick who was returning from his Christmas shopping trip with his Gommy (my Mom). After a quick fashion show (damn the boy can dress!), we headed out on a wild-goose chase for Walmart. We arrived after over an hour of chasing our tails, a faulty GPS, and traffic, to discover they did not close at 8pm like we thought but at 6pm! This was made abundantly clear by the repeated messages every minute from 5:15 onward that they would be closing at 6pm PROMPTLY and to take all purchases to the front. Like any repetition, the announcements created a frenzy; sad for a store that was just responsible for the trampling death of an employee. It will be the last time I shop at Walmart. We made the best of it though, as we always do.
There were three little Christmas trees hanging in the nursery. Sad little things with big bald spots and lopsided branches. If Christmas trees have feelings, that little guy must have been so happy when we pointed to him and said we wanted to take him home. Imagine your whole life, being seeded, growing, year after year, intended for one purpose, to bring a little Christmas joy to some home somewhere, and spending the last day of your “life” locked in a Walmart while the world celebrated around you and then tossed out the next day, your only purpose in life never fulfilled. Maybe Christmas trees don’t think of such things, but I wonder how many people do as they face the final closing….
We put our tree aside and frolicked toward the Christmas decorations, making jokes, playing with things, and basically being the crazy family we cornered the market on years ago. The years the five of us were together (Patrick, April, Erika, Mike, and me) were some of the best years of my life. We made fun out of everything – clapping games and silly walks while standing in lines at the amusement parks, road games and singalongs on never-ending road trips, even chore-day was filled with laughter and games and playing. There we were, goofing off in the aisles at Walmart while the world panicked around us, playing with Christmas decorations and play-fighting over which of the fancy “theme” lights to take home. We threw compromise out the window and took the pinecones bells AND present boxes. We ran to grab some last minute presents for Erika’s little girls and in twenty minutes were standing in line with decorations galore for our little $5 Charlie Brown tree.
Dinner was next at our favorite restaurant as we walked down memory lane recalling celebrations there in the past; all giggling in the memory of Erika’s 13th birthday there when we made her laugh so hard she spit Dr. Pepper out her nose! Sparking the “dueling waterfalls” became the objective of all silly days. Stuffed with Houston’s Hawaiian Steak (to die for!), we took the long way home to look at Christmas lights.
On came the Christmas music when we got home and out came the wrapping paper. It was such a simple little thing really, standing there with your kids wrapping presents, and yet so powerful in some way. The fullness of the circle of life descended on me as we passed the tape and scissors back and forth. Christmas day wasn’t something I “made” happen for them anymore, I didn’t have to tuck them in their rooms while I raced to create Christmas morning before they awoke. We were all adults now, working together to create the Christmas experience for the little ones who would arrive in the morning. It was a strange and wonderful and welcome changing of the tides.
We finished wrapping and attacked the tree. Almost literally, poor thing. When we realized the “shatter proof” ornaments were shatter proof because they were made of rubber, we decided to throw them into the branches instead of hanging them! Our little tree may have been regretting its luck at coming home with this crazy little family. THEN we discovered in our play-fighting over the theme lights we FORGOT to buy real lights! All we had were a strand of bells, pinecones, and presents, none of which were long enough to circle the tree once! We snaked them up and down the front, and then collapsed into fits of laughter – it was, without doubt, the silliest looking tree you have ever seen! THEN we pulled out the star. By this time all sanity had left the building. April stuck the star on top, bending the tip so that the star actually pointed to the corner so that she could plug it in to the extension cord, leaving a hub of plugs suspended in the air as the most hideous blue grey light emanated from the star. I don’t know about the kids, but I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. Really. We decided perhaps it was best to unplug the ugly star, though the light of that laughter will shine forever. We exchanged our presents to each other, chatted awhile, then gave our hugs goodnight and though for just a moment I missed propping the pens against their door that kept them from sneaking down in the night to peak at their presents, I couldn’t help but revel in the joy of sharing so much with them as adults.
Erika, her husband Nick, and her girls, Angel (9) and Brianna (4), arrived in the morning. Yes, for those of you who don’t know that makes me a grandmother in an adopted, ‘ex-step’ sort of way. What joy to spend Christmas with little ones again! Watching them rip off the paper together on the presents they shared and show each other the ones they got individually. They are great sisters, helpful and loving to each other and terrific playmates, a testament to Erika’s skills as a mom. She really is a great mom - laid back but fully involved, never too pushing but always present. They struggle to make ends meet to keep her a stay at home mom and I must say she handles it with more grace and ease than any young lady I know, certainly more than I did. She has three moms – her biological mom, me, and her dad’s current wife. Somehow I think she took the best parts of all of us and mixed them together to become a better mom than any of us.
The morning passed by quickly, with presents and laughter and reliving stories from our times together. It was the first time the three kids shared Christmas morning since Mike and I divorced almost 13 years ago. As I stood in the kitchen watching the three of them laughing across the dining room table while Nick put pigtails in his little girl’s hair in the living room and Angel played with the video-maker I gave them, life, for a moment, felt full and rich and good. I’ve done many, many things in this short little life of mine but nothing has ever given me more joy or made me more proud than being a mom.
What a wonderful feeling, the arms of those little girls in a tight hug around my neck when it was time to go, waving goodbye in the warm winter sun as “the troops” headed off to their dad’s. A few hours later, as I ate dinner and exchanged presents with my own parents, my son passed the phone to Mike, my ex-husband. I knew how much he wanted to cook for the kids and had insisted they spend Christmas dinner and the day there. Choking back tears, he thanked me for bringing them all together this Christmas and for all that I had ever done and been, as a mom to his girls, as a friend to him, as a person in this world. I went home alone Christmas night, and while there is sorrow in an alone-ness I can never seem to escape, the echo of laughter rises from the night before and I know that I have lived and loved well. As I sit here on the couch, typing before our little lopsided, half-lit Christmas tree it occurs to me that not only has it served its life’s purpose, but perhaps, in some small way, so have I.
Merry Christmas to all, and may you not only find the blessings you long for but recognize the blessings you have.
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| Merry Christmas 2008! |
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