Stories from an Empty Nester

I thoroughly enjoyed my first Christmas with my boyfriend Larry, my family, his family...well, our family. I was a bit worried how the day would go with so many different schedules to try to keep it all together. In the end, it worked out perfectly. Though, it still felt incomplete without my son Jerry to share in it.

It was no secret that I had hoped it was another one of his "tricks" to surprise me by saying he could not make it home as planned. Alas, it was not a prank, but we did have a good conversation on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. One slight bleak moment: learning my "original gift" I sent him in Alaska, wasn't so original. He already had a copy of the fishing show he was on with Larry Csonka in 2007 (filmed in 2006). I felt so bad, but so did he. He told his brother he debated on to tell me or not to tell me. I am glad he did. I will get him a gift to replace that one, even though he assured me he was happy with the cookies that I sent.  I just want to make it a right with him.

This year, I had two homes to decorate, and two sets of stockings to stuff. I got it all done and when Christmas morning, dawned, I actually slept in. Our children had other places to be before we would all gather for a Christmas brunch and gift opening at Larry's home. Who am I kidding? OUR home.  It is my home, and for awhile, that felt funny. Afterall, my home was my home for 11 years. Yet, here I am and have enjoyed my first Christmas in this wonderful home.

It felt like a true family, as one by one, or more like in packs, our kids arrived. grandkids in tow. Cinnamon french toast scenting the air,  as they filled their plates with food, smiling and conversing. The grandkids peeking at the presents waiting to be torn open. Excitement in the air from the little one's anticipation. It is music to my ears to hear them giggling, though their Mommy is a little holiday worn.

All too soon, the gifts are all open, the youngest grandson seems more interested in tearing the paper rather than playing with his toys. His brother seems more interested in the toys his younger brother got than the much asked for matchbox cars and trucks he asked for.   Our baby granddaughter too young to actively particpate, but smiling endlessly, beautifully. I am in my glory watching it all come together, happy kids and grandkids.  Larry surprised by a gift he had not asked for, but I knew he wanted: a Christmas village to decorate the home with. Not much, not really. I just saw it and bought it on a whim, hoping to bring a smile to his face. It did. Just as his gifts for me made me smile.

Much food was shared, as with all family gatherings. It seemed the nibbling, munching and eating never ended. Brunch was followed by plates of cookies, dishes of candy and a cracker with cheese and pepperoni platter. Dinner was served right at 5 pm. Though some were too full from the snacking to partake in a full plate. I was just pleased to see our families come together as one.  With dinner done, and kids leaving in packs as they came, I began the tedious chore of clean up.

I don't mind, I was enjoying watching those still here gather around a video game and playing together. I am not much into video games, and not wanting to face the chore the next day, cleaning up was a way for me to participate. In the background I could hear voices raise, laughter, and the sounds of the game. In my mind I was replaying the day. In between chores I called my own siblings to say Merry Christmas. My always perfect timing, I caught a few just sitting down to dinner. While others were not home to answer. I always miss my siblings, but on Christmas Day, that feeling seems magnified. A simple conversation over pickles brought back a gush of memories at dinner.

Dad had been a truck driver for a pickle company in my younger days, and the company always gave him pickles by the cases for his large family. Explaining to Larry's daughters why those sweet little midgets were a part of holiday meals, just brought back holidays of long ago. That ever present homesickness for my Mom and Dad intensified. Like the images rolling on a reel to reel home movie, they flashed in my head. Me in my Christmas velvet dress, riding a tricycle in our old dining room in Seneca Falls. Ham that I was, waving to the camera with my best princess wave. Mom busily baking the Christmas ham, and scurrying kids from her kitchen. The older kids arriving with their children to share in gift giving and dinner. when did that tradition go to the wayside? When life became to fast paced, and the list of kids too long to really share Christmas, I imagine. Afterall, it was not your average size family: 9 kids, their significant others, grandkids....and eventually, great grandkids. Mom didn't get to see that 1st Christmas with great grandkids. The Christmas that wasn't...that is what I call that. I was to be there to share Christmas, the first one in years. I had promised. I was there for Dad, but Mom had passed away. I know Mom would have said, "It was the thought that counted.", yet I still felt horrible that year. 

Mom lives on in my Christmas traditions. I still stuff the stockings just as she did, a tangerine for the toe and a banana for the heel. Then the goodies and a gift to keep the kids busy while I make breakfast prior to opening gifts. I carry that tradition on with my grown kids and grandkids. Now, with Larry and his kids. Though they may find it a bit odd, Larry said he likes it. Just a simple tradition, it is being passed on. Part of Mom, but Dad lives on this memory as well. In every picture I remember of him holding his stocking up for the photographer, he is flipping the bird, big grin on his face. Pure Dad, no harm meant by the bird, just his own little tradition.  It makes me smile as I see that old time home movie play in my head.

So, Christmas 2008 is in the books. Time has marched on since those long ago Christmas mornings at Mynderse Street. All of us kids standing over the furnace grate to get warm, while peeking into the living room to see what Santa may have brought me. Until Mom caught you, and with a bit of jolly and a bit of stern, admonished you for trying to peek. I hope she and Dad were peeking in on my family yesterday, along side Larry's parents, as our two families gathered for our first of hopefully many Merry Christmases to come. Larry and I both miss our parents, we share that emotion. Afterall, this was his Mother's home for years. I am sure both Mom's were smiling watching their children, grandchildren and great grandchildren sharing in holiday magic. Just as they had when he and I were young.

May 2009 bring all of you and your loved ones the kind of happiness I am feeling right now. As the memories of yesteryear mingle with those made fresh this year, a warmth in my heart, bittersweet but wonderful, too. May your own minds play those old time home movies over and over again as well. I hope they repeat in 2009 at Christmas time.