Now that I’m the only one of my immediate family left I can share a funny story about Christmas Chaos and not embarrass anyone. Although, I’m not sure my mom would have cared. She was a diva, but she wasn’t easy to embarrass.
This is all part of 31 blog posts I’m writing to lift up the holiday season and kick out the year. #SuckIt2016
The Set Up
My parents were in an emergency room in California when a social worker called me and said that I either had to move back there and take care of them or find someone that would. I told her to call my sister who lived just 10 minutes from my parents and I wasn’t exactly interested in coming home to take care of them. The social worker tracked down my sister and she, basically, said the same thing I did. Next thing I knew my husband was in California packing them up and they were coming to live in Arkansas. Funny how life works.
They Came with a Flurry of Fury
My parents were amazing people and my mom, specifically, a star. She overcame incredible obstacles with mental health and health issues. She was funny and smart. She made life-long friends who flew out to Arkansas when she died. She won multiple poetry slam awards after the age of 50. She won prestiges awards nationally for her work. She was a fireball… and mean as a snake. I endured her. Barely.
Christmas Chaos
Our tiny cottage in the woods is just 600 square feet. We, at the time, had a 12 year old daughter, our corgi Zeppelin, three cats who didn’t like each other, my husband and myself. I decorated the cottage completely in those days. Garland on the windows, a tree in the corner, a collection of stuffed snowmen on the couch, Christmas stories in a red wagon, a hot chocolate station, cards hung on the door frame. It basically looked like Christmas threw up in the cottage. My daughter loved it.
We were hosting Christmas Eve at our house and my mom, a large woman who dressed with amazing fashion sense and my dad in his best adaptation of Mr Rogers arrived bearing gifts for the girl and all the Christmas cheer. My mother had, in their home, had to stop opening Christmas presents on Christmas morning because her anticipation made her get up at 3am, which was great when I was little, but drove my dad insane as they got older. Needless to say they were thrilled to be there and although I was wary that my mothers slicing tongue could ruin the evening I was happy to have them too.
Having seen the tree and oohing appreciatively from the front door my mother proceeded to head in that direction. That cats moved out of her way at wicked fast speeds as my mom reached down to place one of the gifts she had brought. In that same moment, and I’ll never be sure if there was more involved, she fell into the tree.
Let’s just say that one more time. She fell into the tree.
Now, the tree was about 6ft tall. Not huge, but not small. It was, as it always is, decorated with the ornaments from their tree that they had when they were first married and through my childhood. They had given me the ornaments years ago when our daughter was just a baby. Most of these are glass ornaments of birds, houses, nutcrackers and glass balls so popular in the 1950’s. Basically, the entire tree is filled with glass and my mother was no in it.
The entire tree pushed into the wall behind it as she sprawled face first into it’s branches as if they were embracing her with holiday spirit. No one was saying anything. Or at least I didn’t hear anything other than the shriek coming from me.
My mother, with all her grace and every bit of dignity emerged out of the tree and fluffed her hair up and asked, “now where are the snacks?”
I smiled and walked into the kitchen feasting on the memory that this would hold for the rest of my life.
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