I've been wondering why I hate Christmas so much anymore when it used to be the best time. Why I feel so bah-humbugish, when I used to anticipate it for months to come, shopping for just the right gift all year. And I realized, as I lay down tonight after a disappointing weekend trying to sleep - I miss my grandparents terribly. Every holiday after early morning opening presents, we'd go up to my Grandma and Grandpa Niemoeller's house. Grandma would exclaim over us, then we'd hear Grandpa's bellow from the living room. He'd do his best to give me rug burn from his whiskers, then we'd sit down to a huge meal that Grandma cooked up, joined often by the littler cousins. They who would roughhouse with Grandpa, who'd joke around, loving everyone being there. Aunt Nancy would take pictures and stand by rather shyly, showing me new cat things she'd bought, telling me where she'd gone the past couple months. And, after dishes were done, Mom and Grandma would sit at the table with their coffee and talk and talk while the guys watched football. Then we'd go over to Grandma Grant's tiny house, and she would have tons of people there - all the cousins who were about our age, Uncles, Aunts, Great-Uncles, Great-Aunts and family friends. All crammed into a tiny kitchen and living room. Lots of bustle, everyone trying to catch up while Grandma passed around the present of the year - some particular ceramic she'd made and painted for everyone.
That was Christmas - more than presents, more than Christmas trees or cut-out cookies. Thanksgiving and Christmas were sure times that I would actually see my Grandparents as I grew older and I became more and more busy. It's been seven years since we lost Grandma Niemoeller, six since we lost Aunt Nancy, three since we lost Grandpa and just one since we lost Grandma Grant (though the Christmas gathering was lost when she moved to assisted living three years before). Their houses are other people's residences now. And though I try very hard to get into the gathering of my sister's family at my Mom's house - every year I miss my Grandparents terribly. As a non-Christian, Christmas holds no religious meaning for me; it is all about family gathering together. I miss Aunt Nancy's childlike delight, her simple ways of loving us. I miss Grandpa's laugh, his whiskers, his gratitude at having his family around us and his delight at seeing us. I miss Grandma Niemoeller's rough concern and love, the way she offered us her best through her cooking. I miss Grandma Grant's cheerful optimism, her simple wisdom. I miss them enough that when Christmas comes around there's just a huge hole, there's just too much missing. Maybe as the years come and go, the loss will be blunted. It's been three years since Grandpa's death - but only two Christmases. Maybe it'll get easier, more traditions will fill in -or fewer will be expected so Christmas will be less of a huge, silly deal - more of just a nice couple days off of work for Brian. But for now I go through the motions that our society seems to feel we need to go through, all the buying and partying and running around and feel empty inside.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment