Holiday Happiness or Doldrums?

This time of year has been my favorite for as long as I remember. It was one of the happiest times when I was growing up which sounds crazy because I had a happy childhood. But I remember the fall holidays and Christmas as being the absolute happiest. I do not have a single bad memory of this time of year from my childhood, my teen years, my early adult years. Not one. All that happiness was due to my parents and grandparents who made our family gatherings so warm, safe, and special. None of the everyday humdrum or routine or stress dared to show their face during these times. If the adults were feeling stressed or down, it was impossible to tell. The holidays were a time to put all that away and simply enjoy the love and joy of being surrounded by family. Those are the holiday feelings I tried to pass on to the lovelies as they were growing up. I think I was successful as they all love the holidays and still get super excited this time of year. Yay, Mom!

When you think about it, this is all anyone really wants to hear during this time of year. People like smiling and believing that everyone is happy and enjoying the holiday season. That's not always the case. Sometimes, people are not happy at all and, even when they try, there is someone in their lives who does everything in their power to strip them of any amount of joy. The joy stealers. They are real. And people who have them in their lives do not usually announce this to the world.

These are the silent sufferers who go about as well as they can not wanting to be judged for something so seemingly meaningless when so many others are suffering from illness, incurable disease, natural disasters, the passing of a loved one, etc. But their internal pain is real and their sadness is deep. Some live with it for decades while others take the only escape they feel is available--addiction, self-abuse, suicidal thoughts or the act itself.

People don't want to hear about these sufferers. People want them to buck up. Change their situations. Stick up for themselves better. Get over it. But when you've been manipulated for years and you don't have the means or the energy or the self-worth, bucking up, changing the situation, sticking up for yourself, and the like are not really options. Perhaps if there was someone to talk to...but no one wants to hear about this kind of suffering and, if there is someone, the embarrassment keeps the silence of the sufferer intact.

This is the season of thankfulness. Most folks are thankful for the friends and family, their homes and health. Some are grateful that they feel loved and have supportive, encouraging people around them. There are numerous reasons to be thankful each and every day. But there are those who have trouble seeing the good and the thankfuls because it's too difficult to see past the sadness, the hurt, the disappointment, the pain...

This year, try looking into the eyes of those you pass and the eyes of friends and family when you talk to them. Is the sparkle of excitement and joy missing? Are they avoiding eye contact for more than a couple of seconds or avoiding it completely? Perhaps they have a story that needs to be heard. Perhaps you're the right person at the right time to hear it.

Is there someone you need to reach out to this holiday season?

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Best Laid Plans

Excitement was mounting for the FIRST ANNUAL EMPTY NEST/CHRISTMAS OYSTER ROAST.  Food preparation commenced on time.  All needed items were purchased at the grocery store.  The order for three bushels of oysters was put in.  All was moving forward smoothly.  Which should have been a huge indicator that something was about to throw a wrench in the plan.  And it did.  Friday morning.  It was around 3:30ish a.m. that I awoke, with full awareness, that I was sick.  Are you kidding me?!  And this thing would not let up until late Friday night.  So, I sent out a mass email that we would have to postpone the BIG FUN until New Year's Eve.  Everyone was very understanding, some said it would work out better for them to have it on New Year's Eve anyway.  To top it all off, the weather was not cooperating either-it poured down rain nearly the entire day. 

That was all well and good.  Except the kids were disappointed.  So, because I did feel better, and the rain was letting up as evening approached, and we just didn't want to disappoint the kids, we let the college lovelies have a few of their closest buds over for some Christmas goodies, oysters, movies (and let me tell you that watching Love Actually or Christmas Vacation is not complete until you watch it with commentary from college students) and games.  And, it was a great time!  Except that we always forget one thing about entertaining the younger crowd.  They last way longer than we do!  However, we have learned that exhaustion is bearable when brought on by spending time with youth.

Ah, college kids.  Remember those days?

The lovely on the left has been Birdie's BFF since they were 3 years old!

Put the food aside, let the games begin!

Birdie's really good friend E, DoodleBug, Birdie's BFF M

I don't know...this looks like trouble.

I just love these kids!

DoodleBug's current BoyToy being silly.

DoodleBug and friend A smiling for the camera.

Boys + oyster knives = uh oh! LOL

Steaming another batch.

The games moved outside.

Shoveling out some steamed oysters.

More games.

A shovel full of steam oysters (you won't see me eating any of these things because, to me, they look like something one coughs up, not like something good to eat.

Friend S shows a nasty oyster.

Down the hatch!

Still eating!

And then they ate more!

 
AND A GRAND TIME WAS HAD BY ALL!

Holiday Reflections 4: Our Traditions

Christmas 1960

Love those holiday traditions of childhood as we may, they tend to change as we grow up and, when marriage and/or children become part of our lives, those traditions can really be transformed.  In our family, the biggest change was simply location.  We were blessed to have extended family close by and none further than 4 hours away.  As our daughters grew older, it became easier for everyone to come to us--we would have had to rent a trailer to haul the six of us plus presents and 'Santa' surprises.

At the tree farm 1991

Our favorite part of the holiday season was (and still is) preparing for Christmas.  The advent calendar, decorating, baking, getting the tree.  Everything!  We always waited until the second week of December to get our tree... until 1991.  Prior to that year, we would pack the girls up and head to Hubs' family farm land where they were attempting to grow Christmas trees and either cut one down or dig it up live and replant it.  But 1991 changed all of that.  The FIRST tree we brought home that year was just perfect.  Except that it died within five days.  We undecorated it and, this time, we bought one (hurricane Hugo pretty much wiped out the tree farm and the pickins were slim).  It died.  WTH?!  We had to buy another one. We had brought THREE trees into the house, decorated twice, undecorated once and now WE HAD TO DO IT ALL AGAIN.  Way uncool.  The third tree didn't last too long but we did get through Christmas.  The next year, we went with an artificial tree and have used one ever since because I refuse to risk the 1991 multiple tree decorating disaster ever again!  While the girls were growing up, the decorating of the Christmas tree was followed by watching the town Christmas parade--although, after the first few years, there always seemed to be at least one daughter IN the parade which meant that one of us had to walk along--that would be me. 

There was, of course, the annual letter writing campaign to Santa at the North Pole (we still have every single letter--to AND from) and the making of gifts.  The girls made gifts for relatives for many years including ornaments--wooden, ceramic, crab shells, corks, craft sticks, etc.  But, in 1994, we made a Christmas anthology of sorts.  Each daughter made up a story about Christmas, retold the birth of Jesus and 'Twas the Night Before Christmas, and answered 10 questions about Christmas.  These were treasured so much more than 'store bought' gifts.

Once school was out for Christmas break (actually called Winter break) the BIG fun began.  The girls and I spent hours making Christmas cookies--rolling out the dough, cutting out the shapes and getting icing and sprinkles all over the house decorating them with icing and sprinkles.  Next, we made the annual gingerbread house.  Which, as it turns out, is NOT THAT EASY.  Oh, decorating it with the candy is a cinch.  It's putting the walls up and, the granddaddy of the difficulty, the roof on top.  Yep.  Not that easy at all.  We had to call Hubs in on this part the first couple of years as he is known to us, fondly and among other alias', Mr. Fix-It (he will say that he can't fix everything, but the women in the family know differently).  The next step in the cooking/baking department was the Christmas goodies for the Christmas Eve gatherings--the ham; cheese and olive balls; sausage balls; spinach balls; fudge- butterscotch and chocolate; meatballs and little smokies; Chex Mix; cheese balls; cream cheese and pepper jelly; etc.  And, in the middle of the table, the girls always insisted on a birthday cake for Jesus.

There was (and still is) the writing of the annual Christmas 'newsy' letter to be included, with the Christmas photo of the girls, inside the Christmas cards.  One year, we couldn't get the picture in time to be included so I mailed the letters inside the cards but NOT a picture.  We have our family reunion (this is the huge side, my mother's side) every August and I had to hear about them not getting a Christmas picture from December until the reunion in August.  That Christmas, I sent them TWO pictures, one from the year before AND the one for that year.  If you send something like this to your relatives, please don't ever NOT send one.  You'll pay dearly for it!

Christmas pajamas 1991

Christmas Eve, especially when we hosted the gathering, was very similar to the ones when I was growing up--the family gathered, the food was nearly identical, and the excitement was abundant.  The girls wore coordinating outfits handmade each year by Mimi (my mother) up until they developed their own, individual styles.  Even then, they coordinated colors most of the time.  We generally started out with Hubs' family for the opening of gifts followed by the Christmas Eve service at church (which changed to the midnight service as the girls got older).  The night continued with the gathering of my side of the family where the girls were allowed to open another present--the Christmas pajamas that Mimi (my mother) gave them every year--she still does this!  All of the evening's festivities were topped off with a good reading of Clement C. Moore's 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS and the perfect placement of the milk and cookies.  Finally, it was time to await the arrival of Santa and, to this day (and this includes BestSonInLawEver) they all sleep in the same room. 

Christmas morning 1996

Christmas morning was a hullabaloo of brightly colored wrapping paper all over the place everyone talking all at the same time and the shrills of delight that only children have the ability to project at Christmas, or any other time for that matter!  The sounds of laughter and toys filled the morning and stopped only for a moment while we ate Christmas dinner--traditionally like Thanksgiving until 1993 when we traded in the turkey for prime rib.  Now, I prepare a Christmas brunch instead for any and everyone who wants to join us.  Changes in our family do not usually go over well but everyone seems to enjoy Christmas brunch.

After the college feeding freenzy

And now?  Now we have an empty nest and the first year of one daughter not being here for Christmas.  Breezy and BestSonInLawEVER will be at their home but will join us for New Year's Eve.  We have added the FIRST ANNUAL EMPTY NEST CHRISTMAS OYSTER ROAST to the festivities.  Everything else should pretty much remain close to the tradition--including those handmade gifts (which we are all making for one another this year).  It will be an adjustment, just as Thanksgiving was without Deanie (DD2), not having all our daughters with us.  And, the married lovelies are going to miss out on their Christmas Eve pajamas!  But, this is what happens when you successfully raise your kids to go out and make lives for themselves.  We have discovered that, sometimes, you can pick up an extra kid or two when your college daughters bring some of their friends over to help decorate--in exchange for a free feeding frenzy home cooked meal.

It's going to be a grand Christmas this year with family and friends.  I'm sure of it!  And, with the decorating almost complete, I can see that the Christmas spirit is beginning to overflow because Hubs has been in the middle of everything singing Christmas songs and quoting Christmas movies (and he does it in such an obnoxious manner--no matter, it's the holiday season!).  Yep, it's gonna be a grand Christmas! 


I'm linking up with Follow Friday 40 and Over this week at Java's Never Growing Old!

Holiday Reflection 3: Snow for Christmas

Folks who live in our area are very accustomed to something called HURRICANE SEASON.  It begins on June 1st and ends November 30th every year.  It's not something that we fret over but we do stay stocked with the necessary items should the need arise such as flashlights, batteries, fresh water, canned food, lanterns, etc.  One of the things I am very grateful for is the fact that the need rarely arises.  And one of the main reasons for this gratefulness stems from September 21, 1989. 

His name was HUGO and he came through here with the intent of making his presence known LOUD AND CLEAR.  He also left a wake of destruction and devastation in his path that left people in shock.  Hubs and I packed up and took our daughters (we only had three of them at the time) to my grandmother's house in the upstate--3 hours north of here--where a Hickory Nut tree fell on the house.  No one was hurt and we believe it was because Grandmother and Granddaddy's house was built back when they constructed houses the right way without skimping on materials.  That tree barely cracked a rafter or two.  Amazing.  The NOISE it made, on the other hand, scared all of us half to death! Hubs and I looked out the door at one point and watched huge pine trees swaying back and forth like catapults in 65 mph winds.  Meanwhile, 3 hours south, the low-country was being beat to death by 135 mph winds.  Our house fared quite well.  The tree that fell did so across the back yard and the wind merely took off some shingles from the roof.  At the time, my mother and Hubs' parents lived on Sullivan's Island- one of the barrier islands around the Charleston area.  The only way onto the island in 1989 was the Ben Sawyer bridge--a swing span bridge- that someone did not secure and one end of it ended up in the water.  We had to take a boat to get over there and survey the damage.  My in-laws fared pretty well, mostly loosing insignificant things.  My mother however, lost everything due to an 8.5 foot water level in her house.  Interestingly, her refrigerator floated on it's back and our daughters' art work on the front was untouched. Many, many houses, unfortunately, ended up looking more like the ones in the following pictures and, our church at the time, which was completed flattened--we ended up putting up a HUGE yellow and white striped circus-like tent and having church in it until the new building was finished.

This house was picked up and dropped in the middle of the road by the winds.

Christmas 1989, lighting the Advent Wreath in our Church Tent

As December approached and our thoughts turned to the Christmas season, Hubs asked what I wanted for Christmas.  I told him that I wanted SNOW.  And we got it.  We got a lot of it!  AND, to this day, if you ask our daughters what their daddy got me for Christmas that year, they will reply: "SNOW!"  Even the youngest who did not arrive until 1991 knows how her dad got the snow for me that year. (No wonder they think he can do anything! Heck, so do I!).

My mother-in-law (Irene Nuite Lofton) wrote a little book of poems chronicling the months following HUGO.  She titled the book: THE BROKEN BRIDGE

Here is one about the Christmas snow that year:

FORECAST

Snow predicted for tonight,
if freezing temperatures hold
we will have a record white
Christmas.

Tonight
all is overlaid
by a white coverlet
of softly falling snow.

The scars left
by a devil storm--
rutted wounds in the driveway
dark, broken cedars in the yard,
bulwarks of rotting debris
left by shrieking wind
and rising tide,
lie newly transformed
into mysterious blue-shadowed
mounds and hillocks
of gently sloping snow.

Tomorrow,
the eve of Christmas Eve,
the children will be out
trailing laughter,
tumbling from warm indoors
into the blue-white cold
building snowmen
with icicle noses and old felt hats.
The children and the snow together
will lift our hearts.


One more, if you will indulge me.  This one was written before the Christmas snow:

I WOULD HOLD BACK NOVEMBER

I am not ready
for the bustle of Christmas.
I long to have back
the days of fall.

I long to have back
our Indian summer
when sun lay golden
on the marsh
and the days were soft
with autumn.

A month of storm
has intervened
to interrupt
the gradual waning
into winter from fall.

I look at the calendar
and see winter days approach
and feel cold
creeping in at every crack.
But I still long for fall.

I would hold back the days of November.
I am not ready for December.

Holiday Reflection 2: Grandmother and Granddaddy's House

I have never attempted to grow flowers from seeds before so, when I got my first EVER sunflower blooms this year, I was thrilled!  And, as with so very many things since entering our empty nest situation, the flowers led me down memory lane, this time, to thoughts of my grandmother who was quite a flower person.  She had azaleas, gardenias, daffodils, blue bells, candy tuft, dogwoods, and countless other flowers that I have no idea as to their names, other than 'pretty'.  Her yard, in spring, held the most amazing, vibrant colors of all kinds.  I can remember her garden club meetings which were held in her living room where she served tiny sandwiches and cakes along with coffee in the silver coffee/tea service.  I also remember how the weekends at Grandmother and Granddaddy's were so much fun.  Grandmother and I went shopping at the dime store in a neighboring town and to K-Mart (Granddaddy always said we were out "rakin' around) and we would stay up late and watch old Elvis movies.  Sunday mornings, we went to Sunday school followed by preachin' where we sat on the very same pew.  Every Sunday.  And, after lunch, we would sit on the porch and watch as Granddaddy amazed us by peeling an apple with his pocket knife keeping the peel in one long, curly piece.  But holidays at Grandmother and Granddaddy's house was the most fun of all...

Easter morning was spent at church followed by a huge family dinner.  Always a pork roast with very southern accompaniments such as rice and gravy, corn, deviled eggs, homemade rolls, lima beans, etc.  The 4th of July was also a big celebration.  Every year we had BBQ with all the fixins including a great big watermelon  and home churned ice cream and fire works after dark.  At Thanksgiving, Grandmother always got out the good china and the silver (she actually used the china and silver on Sundays and holidays) and served up a feast of turkey, cornbread dressing, sweet potato casserole (the kind with the marshmallows on top), green beans, corn, potatoes, rice and gravy, homemade rolls (it's just NOT a southern holiday without the carbs!), broccoli casserole, cranberry sauce etc.  Luckily, Granddaddy's blessings were short and sweet and eating commenced rather quickly.

All the holidays at Grandmother and Granddaddy's house were awesome but, my fondest memories of all, center around Christmas.  Every single year for as long as I can remember, I went to Grandmother and Granddaddy's house to help decorate for Christmas.  It all started with Granddaddy bringing home the cedar tree and cutting off the bottom so that the tree would fit in the stand and in the house.  Grandmother and I would go into the attic and hand down the boxes filled with Christmas treasures:  the plastic Santa face for the front door; the wreaths for the side and back doors; the floral displays made of plastic poinsettias, glass ornaments, and glitter all contained on the hidden piece of florist's styrofoam; and the ornaments-all different colors and shapes (plastic icicles, glass soldiers, balls, Santas, drums, and more in purples, reds, blues, greens, oranges, golds and silvers) to adorn the tree.  The tree was slowly transformed into a colorful Christmas delight complete with a star on top.  Christmas cards were taped around the perimeter of the rectangular mirror above the mantle.  And Granddaddy, who went to bed early so he could get up at 4:30 each morning (a habit I think he continued from when he was a boy growing up on the farm) to go to his dry cleaning business and start the boiler for the day's work, would come into the living room and say, "Hush a little bit now." as Grandmother and I laughed in giddy delight.

The anticipation of the arrival of Christmas Eve was almost too much to bear.  And, when the day finally did arrive, the procedure was pretty much routine.  We arrived at Grandmother and Granddaddy's house to find the dining room table filled with homemade cakes (from scratch, no mixes) with 4 to 6 layers- coconut, pineapple, chocolate and the dreaded fruitcake (when Grandmother baked her cakes it was absolutely delightful!  The house would fill up with the sweetest, warmest baking aromas and there was always just enough left in the bowl for licking.).  There were cookies, fudge, and other candies- all homemade.  And, just out of the oven, a ham with cloves, pineapple slices and cherries all over the surface covered with a sweet honey and mustard glaze, sliced to perfection and eaten on sandwiches with plain 'ol white bread and mustard.  There was Chex Mix in Christmas containers all around the house--none of us have ever been able to reproduce Grandmother's Chex Mix (who am I kidding?  We've never been able to reproduce ANY of her fabulous foods.).  On the record player (this was back in the days of vinyl) would be Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald, Mahalia Jackson, of some of the Rat Pack helping us celebrate the season with Christmas songs.  When Granddaddy walked into the living room, clad in his red shirt -sometimes plaid, sometimes solid- Luke, chapter 2, was read after which the most fun of all began---the reading of the names on the tags and the opening of the gifts-- after which the floor would be covered in brightly colored Christmas paper with the shadows of the flames from the fireplace dancing all over the room (Granddaddy had a fire in the fireplace every year whether it was cold enough outside or not.).    

I learned many valuable lessons from my grandparents.  Lessons that did not involve money or material things but that were taught while an apple was being peeled or a cake was being baked; while decorating a Christmas tree or sitting at the table for a family gathering; while cutting into a watermelon, building a fire, sitting in church, watching old Elvis movies on television or even by the wearing of a red shirt each year at Christmas.

 Thinking back now that our nest is empty, I wonder what Grandmother and Granddaddy did when we left after the Christmas Eve festivities.  I imagine it was very quiet.  We have been very lucky so far in that the girls still all make it home for Christmas and they still go to bed excited about Santa's arrival (I'm NOT kidding, we are a Christmas crazy family.).  But I do realize that it wasn't the time of year or the celebrations we had that made it all so memorable.  It was Grandmother and Granddaddy sharing their love that made these memories of family gatherings, laughter, and love precious enough to last a lifetime.  So, what I hope is that Hubs and I were successful in our efforts to give our daughters such memorable traditions.  So memorable that they, too, will look back and remember all of our family gatherings fondly and continue passing down wonderfully memorable traditions of their own.
 

That's me showing Granddaddy my new doll.  

Me and my parents...that white bowl on the coffee table has Grandmother's Chex Mix in it!

My mom and my Aunt Betty

  

Holiday Reflection 1

With the long anticipated arrival of autumn, bringing with it the closeness of the holiday season, I found myself reflecting on holidays past.  The most recent holiday gathering hosted at our house was Easter.  Our daughters are 25, 23, 22, and 19 and my question is this: When do I get to stop preparing Easter baskets?  Oh, and please don't let me forget the son-in-law.  Come on now.  When exactly is old enough, old enough?  While in Wal-Mart two nights before Easter this year, I was on an aisle with a couple about the same age as hubby and myself.  The woman picked up some little chicks that chirp in your hand and her hubby told her that he would not be able to stand that noise.  As I passed them I commented, "At least you aren't buying for children who are grown."  She looked at me a bit sheepishly and replied, "Actually, that's exactly who we're buying for."  At least I know I am not alone.

Ever since I was a little girl my grandmother and mother were in charge of holiday meals.  There was a rare Thanksgiving or two over the years when I attempted to prepare that big family meal but it was not anywhere near as good as theirs.  Even on those Christmases when everyone came to our house, they prepared the meals.  And I was really, really ok with that arrangement.  However, no one bothered to tell me that, as we all got older, I would be expected to take over (that's what happens when you have 3 brothers and no sisters I guess).  So now, when they come to my house, I prepare the holiday meals (OR, as was the case last Christmas and we went to married daughter M's new house, where I still prepared the meals and goodies).  I'm beginning to think that holiday meal preparations are way overrated.

I started cooking the night before (Easter Eve, if you will) and preparing things like chopped onions, celery, mushroom stems; getting the ham ready to go in the oven; cooking the turkey, green bean casserole and brown rice casserole.  We were having a diverse group in terms of eating habits (thanks to our college daughters politely inviting a few friends who did not go home for the holiday weekend) so I added salmon to the meat selections and added a few vegan dishes to the menu which included many traditional favorites such as deviled eggs and macaroni and cheese casserole.  We ended up with only 10 for this lovingly prepared meal (and I say only because if everyone had been able to come we would have had 20+) that everyone seemed to enjoy.  Even better than the food, though, was the fellowship.  I love the dialogue of a family gathering.  there is playful banter, catching up, and even some serious pieces of talk but not to the point of arguing.  Everyone is relaxed and feels free to be themselves in these situations.  There is no other event that I look forward to more than a family gathering.  Even Tucker was tuckered out from playing with his doggie cousins and maybe from all the handouts he got from the table.

Of course, there was that moment when our youngest asked if there was mac and cheese.  "Yes!" I replied enthusiastically since I know it's her fave.  "Did Mimi make it, or did you?" she asked.  Oh well, here's to the coming of Thanksgiving this year--which I am hoping will be hosted by my brother T and his wife since Mimi lives right next door and can easily prepare the mac and cheese.