We had Christmas this weekend with my family. Actually, Fake Christmas as my sister repeatedly reminded me, because Real Christmas is next week. *sigh*
We have to visit both families for major holidays--and they live states apart. Neither side is very charitable about visits to the other, and frankly I've had it up to here with the whole thing. We are going to see Rob's family over Saturday and Sunday and staying at our own home on Monday. I want to spend Christmas in a happy comfortable place alone with my husband. Is that so wrong?
Yeesh. We did have a nice visit however, which is an improvement over most Christmases past. This is the first big holiday since my father passed away, and I knew it would be difficult for my mom. I wasn't prepared for how difficult it has been for me. I never had a great relationship with my father--but the holidays seem to bring out the sentimental side of all of us, and we spend a lot of time talking about early Christmases, the ones before our family went completely down the crapper. It was somewhat sad, but somewhat nice, and I've had enough of the trip down memory lane for a while.
The high point of the weekend was going through our old record albums. My favorite oldie but moldy? Children for Dora Hall. Ms. Dora is considered the queen of vanity variety entertainment. Her husband founded the Solo Cup Company and apparently indulged Dora's dreams of becoming a star. From this wonderful album our faves included: Mr. Boogie Woogie, Tony the Pony, and the infamous Dr. Sniffle Swiper. Good stuff.
Next in line? The Disneyland "Addition and Subtraction" album with my mom's Most Hated Song--Ten Little cannibals. And for your enjoyment--here are the lyrics (the song itself repeated twice, and we played it at least 115 times daily) completely from memory. Yes, I remember the lyrics to the Ten Little Cannibals song, just don't ask my what my zip code is.
Once upon a time there were 10 little cannibals swinging on a vine
One tried to pet a big wildcat and then there were nine
One of the nine drank turpentine
Then there were eight
Then one more fell dead on the floor and seven was their fate.
One went in politics, then there were only six
One took a dive now five we see
One went to Singapore then there were only four
One turned green, and then there were three
One fell into some glue, then there were only two
They drank from a loving cup.
One became a skeleton, then there was only one and he...ate himself...all.....up!
Happy Labor Day 2023!
1 year ago
2 comments:
Oh, Ameliabee,
Reading your posts makes me miss you and your husband. Much to think about in this one...try not to worry too much about your siblings and their reaction to your marriage. From what I have seen of your marriage it is a really great partnership, much more so than you see in many marriages, and let's face it, that's something to envy. Doesn't make it right, doesn't make it easy (for any parties) at family gatherings. But at least at the end of the day you can go home with your partner, and you should...particularly to enjoy a nice quiet holiday together. As long as we have to put up with all the crap of holidays (shopping, enforced good will, larger family gatherings) we should also be able to get some nice quiet time out of them as well.
I so hear you on your first holiday without your dad. Even the most complex relationships can really make their absence felt at holidays and get-togethers. It's been three years now since we lost my brother, with whom I sometimes struggled to get along, but it never fails that every holiday I have moments where I expect him to walk through the door and call me "beaner" (his nickname for me). Sometimes it's not so bad to focus on those sentimental memories, especially when you're feeling sad that they're gone. Even if they made you crazy when they were here! Have a "real"ly happy holiday now, you and the mister.
Nonanon,
Thanks for the kind words. I've always thought that Rob and I had it pretty good. Our marriage might be a little strange to some, but love and respect and some shared OCDs can go a long way toward happiness.
I'm still consistently surprised at how difficult losing my father has been. We've always been a prickly family, and our pricklish-ness only worsens as we grow older. Thank goodness for alcohol at family events, I say.
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