- I'll be homo for the holidays....
So. Christmas is quickly approaching. Thank Jebus. I've never been a huge fan of the holiday season, truth be told. When I was younger, of course I'd look forward to the overcompensation driven by my parents' divorce, but really the whole thing was a big pain in the ass. Christmas Eve has always been and shall always be my day of celebration.
As a child of a divorced couple, holidays are split. Which in my case meant that I got Christmas morning at mom's and Christmas evening at dad's. In other words, I got up, opened presents, had maybe an hour to spend with my maternal family and then I had to run off and get ready to go with my dad. Whom I love dearly, by the way. But eh. Christmas Eve, on the other hand, was all grandma's. The whole family would gather at my mom's mom's place on Christmas eve. As a child, I could look forward to playing with cousins, eating my fill of cookies and candy and opening one present. The better to keep me out of the folks' hair you see. As an adult, I got to sit at the dining room table as an equal with my grandma, mom and sister and we'd smoke and drink beer and chat. Every year I was struck by the beauty and grace of my family. And every year I would take note of how my mother's hands looked more like grandma's, and how my hands looked more like mom's.
When I was in college, my uncle moved away. Gran was getting too old to deal with a houseful and my mother stepped to the plate as hostess of Christmas Eve festivities. We still sit at the table, drink beer and smoke and chat, but now its just me and mom. Its not the same as grandma's, but I guess all things change. Thats life. But I am still struck by beauty and grace and how amazing it is that my mother's hands are at the ends of my arms.