It's New Year's Day. My mom, aunt and I are spending the day getting the house ready for a bunch of company after Dad's memorial service. And it all hit me really hard .... It took me a little while to get through the anger and the pain .... and I remembered the last painful holiday I spent at my parents' home.....
Christmas, 1997. I had left my husband and moved out with my two kids. It had taken a while to find a place suitable, and affordable, to live. We moved everything in a day, and got settled into the apartment quickly, as this was the year for my kids to spend two weeks at Christmas at their dad's in Arizona. Working full time and getting prepped for this took up all my time. I finally got my kids off on the plane, finished out the work week, and settled in for the holiday. As usual, I dressed up for Christmas Eve (because that's what we always did) and headed over to my parents' house so we could go to church together. When I arrived, they were ready, but the house was oddly ... quiet. There weren't platters of food ready for the family celebration after church. There were very few presents under the tree. And my parents had forgotten to tell me there was no family celebration after church, and they were headed somewhere else. I drove myself to church, and after, went home to a night of solitude. Christmas alone. (Isn't there a movie about that????) I turned off the phone, and celebrated on my own (which means I watched TV and crawled into bed early lol).
Christmas Day would be a lonnnnng one. In the mid-afternoon, I was so bored, I ended up in a pool hall, drinking a beer, hanging out with the other family-less persons. then came the turning point, the moment I determined that I wouldn't be spending another Christmas like this. Nor was I going to be dependent on my family for holidays any longer. I guess you could say I started a quest to find something, someone, some way, to make some life changes. And I did. I did the "love on the internet" thing - which was quiet scary in 1998! - and moved me and my kids to Ohio. Yep. That cured the family / holiday issue. Since 1998, this Christmas is only one of two Christmases I've been here with my family again. And I think now I understand even more.
Here we are, preparing for Dad's memorial service. In the bigger picture, people who are coming to pay respects, to mourn, to help us celebrate Dad's life -- do you think they'll remember if there was a tablecloth on the table? If there was a little extra dust in a corner? If things weren't sparkling and shiny? Naw, what us humans remember are the moments with people, the hugs, the stories we share. I've never understood my mom's compulsion with stuff, how she loves all these "things" in her house, and how everything has to be perfect. She's obsessed with cleaning and serving others - don't get me wrong, that's one of the noblest gifts God bestows - but she takes it to the extreme, in my opinion. Of course, part of the issue I have is she does so much for others -- but it isn't returned to her in ways that it should be. Four able bodied grandsons live nearby, they stop in often, but who's doing the yard work? Us three old ladies. Who is climbing ladders getting things down? yep, us again.
I don't complain, I just do. I respect Mom's wishes and how she likes things. I don't have to understand it to respect it. If she wants leaves swept rather than raked, ok, I can do that. I can run the vacuum her way, wash dishes her way. Oddly, she doesn't feel as if things are done unless she does them herself. But the saddest thing of all, rather than being a comfort to each other, we're busy doing. And maybe that's the best way to comfort Mom, since she likes things "just so".
There's a saying about how long you can stay with someone else before it gets uncomfortable. I have reached that point, for sure. I am ready to be home, to be back to my own life.
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