In years’ past, we end every holiday season having
accumulated lots of material to work with for the upcoming year from time spent
with family. Some of it’s funny, like
the impersonations you perform of Crazy Aunt Edna clicking her teeth at the end
of each sentence or Dad walking outside immediately following every meal to de-gas
his intestines. Some of it is just annoying,
like your sister always trumping your best story with one of her own that’s
bigger and better or your nephew screaming bloody murder every time he’s in the
same room with you, and he’s NOT a baby.
And some of it is just plain sad, like finding out the neighbors down
the block are getting a divorce after fifty years of marriage or witnessing Mom
drink herself into a tailspin of hateful comments before passing out while
still seated at the dessert table.
This year we didn’t visit with extended family over
Christmas. Leading up to the winter
holiday we joked about not having to endure the in-laws squabbling about who
spends more time with the grandkids or cousin Eloise complaining yet again how
there’s not a decent single man left on the planet. We banked on the fact that there’d be less
hustle and bustle and more relaxing time because there’s no one to entertain
and no one that wants to entertain us.
We expected a peaceful holiday but knew without a doubt, we’d miss our
family over the holidays. What we didn’t
plan on was feeling cheated out of our yearly dose of family member mannerisms.
Part of the fun of the holidays for me is hashing and rehashing
the moments, good, bad, or otherwise, that highlight each family member’s most endearing
traits. Those attributes, whether cute, obnoxious,
or simply just familiar, make us who we are.
I like to think of these characteristics as those things that an artist
would add to a caricature at Disneyland.
For example, my caricature body would have big boobs, but an even bigger
mouth that would take over the bulk of the page, as it is always open saying
stuff that oftentimes gets me in trouble.
Those sometimes ridiculous words
that come out of my mouth, are undoubtedly the things that other family members
laugh about long after Christmas tree is put out in the alley and the presents
have all been put away.
This year we visited various friends’ homes over the
holidays of who had their own family in town.
While each household held the key ingredients to for a stellar cast of
characters, and the makings of a good story line to later develop into an
exaggerated production, it wasn’t the same as it wasn’t my own family. The uncle that literally panted like a dog
every time a sweet young thing came within twenty feet of him wasn’t quite as
funny or memorable when it wasn’t MY uncle.
The step-mom who dressed like a girl hanging out in the red light
district, complete with fishnet stockings, four inch stilettos and a bustier didn’t
get the full belly-laugh from me when I recanted the story later to friends, as
it wasn’t MY step-mom. The brother who kept his Bluetooth on
throughout Christmas Eve dinner and all-importantly kept checking his phone for
a text from the office regarding that big sale he’s been waiting to close didn’t
carry the same level of nostalgia as watching your own family members weave in
and out of stages of life.
I guess what it comes down to the fact that we only derive
true satisfaction out of teasing those who we love. Yes I’ve had my periods of all-out making fun
of people that aren’t near and dear to me, but that ship has sailed, as it just
doesn’t seem nice or needed and quite frankly, isn’t as fun or meaningful as collecting
quirky characteristics of those who are close to you. Those little nuances, like Aunt Shirley making
eye contact with each and every audience member while theatrically playing
Christmas carols on the piano on Christmas Eve, make me treasure her for being
her. And Grand-Daddy starting every question
with, “Now say” before asking, “what do you hear about so-and-so?” while his index
finger covers his nose and this thumb is tucked under his chin in alleged contemplation,
make him undeniably my Grand-Daddy. It brings me that much closer to that family
member each time I recount, replicate, or reminisce about, individual family
members’ distinctive behavior. Positive
or negative, those traits make my family, and me, who we are. So make no bones about it, I missed my family
this year and all that they bring to the table with their own peculiarities. I can’t wait to refill my own family material
jar next time we’re all together!