We celebrated Christmas in the City. Not much of a city - Salt Lake City. But, it's better than nothing. I'm a bit of a country hick with a huge hankering for the civilized things that cities have to offer. Such as sidewalks, twinkly lights, neat little houses, in sweet little rows, all along the boulevard.
That is precisely the type of neighborhood where my daughter lives. So, she took on the happy task of entertaining this year. What a wonderful time we had. Sleeping in, cooking all day, opening gifts that make you giggle. It was just a marvelous magical time.
But, it didn't start out that way. And, I've been thinking about this ever since I arrived back home.
About how age can be a blessing. Or, a bane.
However you choose to deal with it...
We celebrated Christmas Eve doing the same thing we've done every year for as long as I can remember. And every year the same grumpy old curmudgeons do their absolute best to rain on our holiday parade.
It becomes more apparent every year. Half happy/half hopeless, there's no better way to describe that dividing line in our extended family...
There's the "I expect you to buy me a gift every year though I will never ever thank you for your thoughtfulness" Mr. Baseball Obsessed Bad Dad. He reciprocates by handing me a crappy bootlegged cd wrapped in newspaper.I don't much care that he never buys me anything.
When you get older, if you have lived a good life... your wants are few and far between. I take much more joy in giving, than receiving, the perfect gift.
However! It would not kill that ungrateful pig to say thank you! Those two incredibly powerful little words ~ that, after awhile ~ can make, or break, a friendship.
Also in attendance are the two neighbor guys who lived on the same block, just down the street, and got kicked out of their homes, by weary wives, the same year. (You go girls!) That was so long ago I'll bet neither one of those guys could tell you, for sure, what year that was.But, I can! I know precisely how many years I have had to listen to them complain about how men are perfectly well-balanced but divorced women have lots of emotional baggage. (Argh...)
I could go on and I probably should. Such a great pile o' dirt. Bachelor #3 showed up with a male date this year... And, since we're all from Minnesota none of us are forward enough to ask the burning question of... You're gay? When did that happen? :))
But haven't I gone on far too long already? Why, yes, indeedy, I have.
Back to my super fabulous Christmas... In sharp contrast to that crowd of curmudgeons, my daughter is a newlywed ~ young, happy, devoid of baggage and I'm kind of thinking that's what made this such a marvelous holiday.
Youth. That incredibly critical ingredient to a happy life ~ particularly, as we grow older. To be surrounded by youth. Vitality. Exuberance. Hope and future plans. Instead of divorce, upside down mortgages, and the ruts. Those proverbial ruts where we lie down & give up, once the inertia of old age takes hold of our tired bones.
Young people are happy, and happiness is infectious, so a little bit of their charm will, inevitably rub off onto you. At least, that's how I feel though I am beginning to wonder if I'm weird in that respect and if perhaps there is something wrong with me.
So where am I going with all of this? Well, I guess this is a long, convoluted way to ask one very simple question:
Have you ever been at a social gathering, with people you've known for your whole life and suddenly it's as if you don't know them at all?
Because that's what happened to me this Christmas Eve. It's like I'm a ghost, on the outside looking in. Those people haven't changed so apparently I have. Doubtful that's for the better. But there's no denying that it's happened. And, now I'm just kind of wondering what to do about that...