Most of you (all of you?) might not know this, but I have intentionally separated myself from my family at Christmas. Before you freak out, hear me out.
I was married. We had some issues with my in(out)laws. We managed to mostly keep to what we (I) wanted for a happy Christmas, but it involved a lot of drama. (Ask me if you want the deets.) But we never (ever) made it back to Maine to be with my family. So, when I was divorced, I found myself in a strange position. I was, by all accounts, a worldly, self-acualized, independent woman who had not taken money from my parents in two (three?) years. I hadn't spend a holiday with them in just as long. To go home as the Youngest Unmarried Daughter just seemed like a giant step backwards.
That was the first year I spent Christmas with B. And if the skiing has anything to do with it, I made the right decision. (Rach -- you have some awesome friends that I still remember fondly, but the snow calls.) The next year, I recall, I spent with none of you. I was Hell bent on NOT establishing a Christmas tradition. Perhaps it was just all part and parcel of the self-centeredness that was my 20's (to be torn asunder by CJ's death), but I was establisng my own adult persona; it was very important to me.
So now I find myself separated [Rachel is so right] from my family on Christmas, and frankly (no pun intended), I don't mind. I have tried to be less selfish with my time and spend more time with my friends and family since those jealous 20s. Sometimes, however, it doesn't work out.
I spent so much time worrying about my flight that I was having no fun. Forget fun, I had no relief from my very stressful job. However, when I stopped trying to get to Bozeman, my whole vacation opened up. I wasn't checking NOAA every five minutes. I wasn't cruising the Alaska Airlines site every 30 min. I didn't care what Tri-Met had to say.
What I did have was three (four) offers of Chrismas that grew to six (seven). Anyone who knew I was "stuck" in Portland for Christmas immediately offered up their Christmas options. M invited me to Eugene, but with the horrible snow in Portland, I decided to pass on the drive. My Original Portland Friend (seriously, dude was the person who introduced me to kickball) was also stranded at the airport, gave me a ride home, AND told me I was welcome at Christmas. Others random people have invited me over to make sure that I'm not "alone."
What can I say? A long time ago I gave up on "the tree" and "the family" and I realized that I can survive. But I spent this Christmas with two people who have never been away from their families at all. They didn't know this until now.
Y'all might have never heard it, but the thing that I have loved about Portland is the people I have met, from kickball to climbling. This Christmas has only proved my experience; we came together to make a wonderful celebration for everyone. "Christmas came without ribbons, tags, packages, boxes, or bags -- but somehow or other it came just the same." It WAS Christmas, regardless of who was or wasn't there.
I can not say it any better than this: "Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."
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2 comments:
While you may consider yourself estranged from us, I do not think such a negatively connoted word is appropriate. While it is true you are rarely "home" for the holidays, we still call, send gifts, and think of each other. We have a relationship, and therefore do not fit my definition of estranged. Separate, sure. But I still look forward to talking to you, even if the time change and other commitments means the call doesn't happen for a few days. Maybe that's our Christmas tradition as adults-- a very delayed, yet just as heartfelt, call.
Glad being stranded in Portland was exactly what you needed.
Oh, Portland.
As the Replacements once said:
"It's too late to turn back/
Here we go..."
Make that shoe fit how ever it will, but it sounds like you are among your people. It's a good feeling, isn't it?
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