My untraditional Christmas

      Sometimes it's okay to give yourself a break from tradition.  It may even start some new traditions. 

     So, we didn't do a tree this year.  I one day realized it was December 20th, and my mom, who is always the one excited about Christmas decorations, hadn't gotten my son to bring the tree out of storage.  Is Mom alright?  She's just fine, but this year, she and I have been faced with many days of having to beg, bargain or manipulate to get my son out of bed.  You see, on top of some emotional issues, there have been a few alcohol and drug incidents with him, and since the last very serious incident, he has not been the same.   He has even been given a mental health diagnosis.  So, I figured that it just became impossible to get his help and neither of us wants to do it on our own.  When one member of the family suffers, it affects the whole family.
      In a published article from BBC News, a writer stated that anyone would give a person suffering a broken leg a free pass at Christmas time, and that we should be able to give ourselves a free pass in the cases of inner suffering.  Those in their first holiday after losing a loved one, those struggling with their own mental illness and depression, or that of a loved one.  Inner suffering is not always visible.  The retail and capitalistic pressures of the season are a bit much, even for those who are completely healthy.  I have been silently boycotting the mall at Christmas time for years, having had more than my share in my former 15 year retail career.  So, I decided, it was our right to forgo the tree.  I had even asked my son if he wanted the tree up.  He said no.  I think our alternate decorations were quite beautiful. 
     I even succeeded at staying out of the mall,  until my son got a Christmas check to spend.  He said he needed sunglasses and requested to go to the mall.  Funny thing is,  when we were there, we found that the sunglasses shop was upstairs.  He told me adamantly that he would not go upstairs.  I don't know what was behind that; he doesn't always share what's in his mind.  So, suffice it to say,  nothing was bought at the mall and I was not happy.  I will chalk it up to his own mall anxiety, but I really wish he hadn't asked to go there in the first place, because it sealed some bitterness I was already feeling about that money.
     Believe me, I have felt guilty enough about feeling that bitterness.  (Quaint, isn't it, the way one negative feeling leads to another...).  However, my son is not prepared to go to work.  Finances are strained because of Christmas shopping, because he turned 18 this year and because I decided to stop seeking court-ordered support from his father, and any promised offer of help is always deferred.  It's an issue in itself and I just need to stop worrying.  At any rate,  I had taken my son to get a filling, the price being around $100 even after insurance.  I paid for said filling.  Then, I, gritting my teeth, took him to cash a Christmas check from his dad. I informed him he should buy lunch; it would cost much less than that filling. He did not argue but looked at me funny. I said, "You got this nice check and aren't really "sure" what you need. Well, you "needed" that filling, and I paid for it. You "need" lunch and you can pay..." So, he bought lunch and got his Grandma a gift. After all, I braved the mall so he could look and decide what he "needed." It's never too late to learn, money is not one sided.  Yet, why did I feel so guilty and bitter at reacting this way?  Obviously, there is too much that I do lately simply because I HAVE to.  I feel responsible for everything, yet I control nothing.  Not a great feeling.
     In short, I excused myself from doing all of the Christmas rituals that we have "always done" just because we have "always done" them.  For that truly would have been my main purpose.  Some people may tell me that is not how I am supposed to feel.  Please don't tell me how I am supposed to feel.    I felt that this was one more thing I would do because no one else in the house had the stamina to care if it was done.  Would I suddenly feel Christmas cheer during the task of putting up and decorating a tree?  No doubt, my son would have jumped in, right?  In my mind, I came up with a resounding "No."  Instead, I felt the joy of stringing up those lights, and being done in 15 minutes.  That is the extent of decorating that I could handle this year, and I was alright with that.
     Instead of hearing the expected "Bah, humbug" from me, what you would hear about this Christmas from my mouth is:  I spent time with family.  I attended church service, and even though Christmas Eve dinner was un-traditionally enjoyed at Golden Corral instead of in our home, it was enjoyed and shared with family.  This Christmas,  I reflected on how thankful I am for my boyfriend of 5 years, who has suffered his own family losses in the last year, how thankful I am that my son is alive and not using substances, and how glad I am that my mom is still with us and quite healthy.  Not to mention the shelter dog who came into our lives over a month ago, that furry toddler bringing joy, unconditional love, and energy when we didn't think we had any left.
     Christmas presents were left untouched until after dinner Christmas day.  Traditionally, we would open them after church Christmas Eve.  But I go to a different church than Mom now, and she went to her service after attending ours.  On Christmas Eve,  my son and I rode past some beautifully decorated homes.  Then, he went to bed early, like usual, and I read a book in the "decorated" living room, snuggled next to my dog.  I didn't feel the need to dig into presents.    I already had received many presents, and I didn't go nuts trying to shop wisely or decorate perfectly.  I gave myself a little break this year.  After all, there is a lot of self-doubt and self-derision going on within me on how I have handled my son's situation this year,  but I can see the sunrise scattering the darkness.  I shared love and joy with my family this Christmas.   I am blessed, and I am thankful.                

Bonding over Gaga

He's 15, I'm 43, and Lord, we sure don't usually agree on a radio station!  However, things are a- changing!  I am told all the time by our counselor, my mother, and the books I read:  "You need to have more conversations that don't involve giving directions, and try to connect with your son!"  So why not bond over music? I mean, it is popular culture, and what makes for a better conversation piece?

Lady Gaga

For the longest time we could never agree on what music to listen to.  I have been into blues, rock, and sometimes alternative.  He would switch it to 93.3 (hardcore) and 97.9 ( a little more bearable).  Okay, maybe I'm blurring the lines between hip hop and pop, but last summer we both loved the Eminem/Rihanni song "The Way You Lie."  No one asked for a channel change!  I sang along!  He pretended not to!  It was great!

So, it helps that I won a pass and have been attending dance fitness classes that mostly jam to, you guessed it, hip hop!   And I must say, I am getting used to the pulsating, danceable rythms...they are actually growing on me!  Now, when I pick him up from somewhere, he opens the car door and says, "Man!  Do you really need the music that loud?"  Are you loving the role-reversal as much as I am?  I allow him to turn it down, but he is usually alright with the music selection.   I have lately had a lot of interesting conversations with him about Lady Gaga, queen of the outrageous.  He knows the songs,  I know of the latest buzz about her ever-changing wardrobe.  She is pushing the boundaries, meat-dress included, but I shall talk no more of that, because a meat-dress is just downright stupid.  Having said that, Gaga is really outrageous, just like that long-remembered 80's icon, Madonna.  She pushed the boundaries, dressed and danced sexy; the similiarities are obvious and glaring.

The original.

Anytime her recent song, "Born this Way", came on, I would play it and sing along.  I, of course, had to point out to him the resemblance to Madonna's "Express Yourself."  The pitch, the beat, the bridge, add in any other musical terms you like....just take a listen to both and you'll see what I mean.  I am, of course, not a music expert, but I have a good ear, as my son has.  I think he enjoyed this type of conversation.  I also informed him of the outrageous costumes, lingerie on stage, suggestive dances, dyed hair, huge hair accessories, and other various things Gaga seems to have "borrowed" from the 80's icon.  Guess what?  Madonna was huge and is probably still living off her 80's earnings.  Gaga seems to be catching on much the same way.   I have poked fun at her and slammed her for being unoriginal.  But she sure seems successful.  My son loves these conversations.  I actually sound like I know something about pop culture.   

But I can't deny that I totally get goosebumps when I hear her latest song,  "Edge of Glory."  Everything is great: her voice, the beat, pretty catchy lyrics too.....I will crank it up and sing along, shimmying my shoulders while driving, inspiring my son to HIDE HIS FACE.  Parents today, we're embarassing.  He'll be alright.  At any rate, I have searched her video on youtube so I could download it.  There she is, blond bob (with hint of black), heavy black eyeliner, and leather lingerie with what seems to be metal accents.  Sound familiar?

Let me just enjoy the song.  We'll have to stay away from the video.  In other genres of pop culture, one of the summer reading books in my son's school is Into the Wild , a true story about a young man he gave up all the monetary trappings of his family and society, and went alone to live off of the land.   We have both seen the movie.  I suggest you do, too.  It was also shown in his Geography class last year, another source for many bonding conversations.  Hey, at this point, if he is willing to talk to me about it, I will have (or develop) an interest, no matter how objective! 



Not bad, old girl. Not bad.

 Summer 2005

5/29/11:  So today is the "big" day (b-day) and I'm well on the way into my forties.  I still would like a better life, and it's been a little challenging lately, but it's really not that bad, and I have accomplished some good things in my life.  One more year passing tells me that I have more chances.  I've lived, I've loved, I've aged.  And I think that's great!

Today, I went to the grocery store with my son and ran into a former student that I taught in 8th grade two years ago.  She smiled and said, "I remember you.  Do you remember me?"

"Oh yeah," I smiled, " Your hair was blond back then!"

"Wow," she exclaimed.  "That seems like so long ago!"  It amazed me to think that she is only a year older than my son, and now she works at the grocery, and is about to be a junior in high school.

She was really so nice to me.  Back in school she was not.  I think she once said she hated me.  She mentioned, "I was so bad back then!  I would never want to be a teacher.  I remember I got thrown out all the time." 

I said, "I remember that too!"  At which the other cashier laughed.  She laughed with me too.  She didn't have to apologize.  Just her courteous behavior today and laughing with me, and heck, saying she remembered me made me feel good.  That and seeing she is responsible enough to have a job! :-)  It makes me feel proud, and that maybe I did something memorable to aid her in her growth, knowing she remembers me with a smile and a laugh.  It was a bright light on this special day.

I got an excellent facebook message from my Uncle Bob, mentioning "let's ride horse or rapids again...but no skydiving!"  And I think, yeah, it's been a pretty good life.  I haven't gone skydiving yet, but I plan to, (against the advice of many including Uncle Bob).  I'd also like to learn to personally fly a Cessna over the Grand Canyon, because that flirty pilot from last time really got me thinking when he said I was the take-over pilot if he passed out!  I still haven't been to Europe, but I'm dreaming and hoping.   I can look back at some good things, and I can look forward to even better, because, even though I think this summer is going to be hard work, I have always, always known how to save, plan, and dream. 

Hitting the "End" Button on My Cell Phone

June, 2010.  It follows the "I love you." It is not final. It is just a good bye for now, and always follows "I love you." But I have at times had trouble believing that. I have, at times, had trouble with the goodbye following "I love you."

My dad and I have been distant at times. He left his marriage to my mom, and the state where I live when I was eleven. He flew me up to see him, once or twice a year. He talked to me on the phone, tried to still be my dad. But we were distant, and sometimes estranged. There were goodbyes with huge spaces in between them.

He checked in to rehab and recovered from alcoholism when I was twenty. He truly did seem to have a "spiritual awakening." This made him more present in my life, even if from afar. He was full of excellent advice and nothing but positive encouragement for me after that. I am sure that helped me in my college endeavor. Lately, he has regularly called me on Sundays. The marriage to his third wife seems to have been a healthy choice, and they both have a healthy lifestyle together. So it was shocking finding out recently that he'd suffered a heart attack at his young age of 65.

He had gone in for a procedure in April, because of an extra heartbeat. Forgive me if I don't remember all of the scientific terms and I don't think I ever will. It seems to be a mental block....I don't want to be familiar with cardiovascular health issues. At any rate, the procedure to fix his extra heartbeat caused blockages and therefore, he had a heart attack.

Listening to him on the phone the day after, speaking to me from his hospital bed in critical care, he sounded so weak. He said, "This really makes you start to think about what really matters." I have admired his spiritual change but can't quite understand the way he works, as a contractor with military logistics, he moves around after jobs, sometimes commutes...I am only to ponder on what he meant with those words, but they choked me up, and I started to think what that statement means for me.

If you thought this day would be your last, wouldn't you want to take the extra step to show those you love how you feel? I haven't seen my dad in two years. That was at my brother's wedding. He's busy, I'm busy. We have our own respective families and lifestyles. In my adult years, I have not approved of his frequent moves. (I loved the house in San Diego, would've loved visiting again...) I've also at times adopted the attitude: "Well, I haven't seen him in two years. If he wants to see us, he can.....visit, send a plane ticket, etc." I guess it's a form of detachment. It's also a little selfish, but a self-preserving mechanism, I'm sure.

Dad was in the hospital a few days; some things weren't looking so good. My brother decided to take time off of work and spend time with him, visit, sit with him in the hospital, hopefully see him on his way back to wellness. He was afraid of losing him finally, too. I chose to stay here, as my son had to work to pull up his grades at the end of this year, but the whole time, I felt divided. I have almost lost my dad before at age 10 due to a hiatal hernia. Those memories came back, and I walked on eggshells for the 7-10 days he was in the hospital. Eric (my brother) was really good about calling me and keeping me posted. It was probably a bonding time for them. Dad finally got released, but is still weak and on the mend.

I just ended a phone call with my dad and pushed the end button once again. After "I love you," came "I'll see you Wednesday." Now that the worry and drama has eased, my son has passed eighth grade, and my work year is almost over. I purchased airplane tickets 2-3 weeks ago to see Dad, his wife, and adopted daughter for a brief visit. I like his family. I am going to see him a little late I guess. But family is one thing that really matters. Did they need me there during the fear and drama of his hospitalization? I think not. In a way it would've made me feel better, though. Why am I going now? Because it's been two years, and because I can.