Wife with fever cancels Christmas dinner and the 13 year-old is texting friends while reading a new book and playing a new DS game all at the same time, because she can. House is quiet and it has me missing the crazy Irish Christmas Eves we used to have. With my Grandfather passing this year, that was really the last link to those times for me in a way. I miss the days of being the oldest grandchild in a massive family (and the obvious favorite, no matter how many more came behind me - haha.) Aunt Karen eating all of the mashed potatoes, hoping this is the year that you were taller than Aunt Mildred, loving the magic and pomp and circumstance of midnight mass, and then dreading it, as the only thing standing between you passing out and waking up to a room full of toys. Finally having your table manners in order so that you could sit somewhere other than next to Granddad and his poking fork. Wondering why the tree was tied to the wall even though they didnt have any pets? (Oh, right, Uncle Kevin was in the house.) Eventually pulling out the photo albums and seeing my Mom Maureen Hogan Barbee in wigs and go go boots. Everyone still talking years later about the time Karen, Susan, Tim, Tricia and Kevin got me a full band set of instruments and my Mom still vowing revenge. Trying to size up how many cars are going to need to be moved so that we can play basketball in the driveway. Slipping up to the attic bedrooms and reading the old books of Peanuts comic strips. Going down to the basement and eating all of the McDonaldland cookies that Aunt Tricia had coated with shellac to use as ornaments (cant believe I ate them all - we all have a little Uncle Kevin in us I guess.) Drinking out of tin cups that were probably from the depression. Deciding if I wanted a butter mint or a KoC tootsie roll. Hearing the stories of Kevin getting his mouth washed out every time someone grabbed the dish soap to do the dishes. It was all so... familiar. I got to exist there in a unique place, in-between my aunts and uncles, and the younger cousins that would follow behind me. With six kids all eventually having children of their own, my grandparents certainly had a packed house, but you always felt special and loved at every turn. It was never perfect, but they built a sturdy foundation. I love where we are now with the family Christmas, with the kids of the kids now having kids (welcoming our new one this year with the mighty Thor Albert) and it is loud and fun and a beautiful continuation (including Christmas pants!), and I wouldnt go backwards for a minute. Maybe missing the old Christmas Eves isnt the right word. Thankful for those times. That sounds about right. Now pass the mashed potatoes.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 20:21:46 +0000
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