Christmas Sentiments Said and Unsaid

At Christmas, I get overly sentimental and everything makes me cry. I prefer to spend the holidays in Georgia, because that's home. I prefer red clay over snow. Chicken biscuits for breakfast. Shopping at the little stores in Dahlonega. Seeing "The Nutcracker" ballet at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta. Going back to my hometown of Hartwell. Watching Cary Grant in "The Bishop's Wife" surrounded by Christmas lights in my mom's living room in Lula. Visiting every permutation of family. Gifts all around.

Every Christmas brings some new wisdom. This year, I realized 8 things:

1. Family is where you find it.

Shellie & Dave

My brother Daniel has children by three different women. Those women have moved on with their lives. Delaney is one of my nieces. Delaney's mom is Shellie. Delaney's stepdad is Dave.

After 10 hours on the road, my family rolled into Momma's house in Georgia the Sunday before Christmas. Shellie and Dave came over with Delaney and their daughter Falyn. We exchanged gifts, ate ham and hung out. At some point in the evening, it hit me that I'm not actually related to them. But I love them like family.

What I wanted to say to Dave: "You are so cool for hanging out with your stepdaughter's paternal family for Christmas. I keep a short list of the real men in this world, and I just wrote your name on it."

What I actually said: "Here, I got you this cool Fat Albert DVD for Christmas. It also comes with a bonus CD."


2. Awkward family photos are better than good photos.
On Christmas Eve, we exchanged gifts with my mom's side of the family. We tried to get a picture of the women in the family.

What we want to look like:

What we really look like:

A picture is worth a million words--unless it's this picture. 

3. Laughter through tears is still my favorite emotion.

Emily and Lila check
out Video Cam Barbie.

As I poured mimosas for me and my cousin Emily on Christmas Eve, I noticed a dead bug floating in one of the glasses. I fished it out and said, "Eh, I'll drink from the bug glass. I'm not worried."

"I'll drink it," said Emily. "I already have cancer. I doubt a bug will kill me."

We laughed about it. Because it was funny. Because her sarcasm is what I always loved best about Emily anyway. Because cancer is always so damned serious that you laugh to keep from crying. A year and a half ago, Emily was diagnosed with Stage IV colon cancer at the age of 28. After surgeries, chemo and radiation, she is currently cancer-free.

What I said: "Drink up. There's a second bottle in there."

What I wish I'd said: "You are the strongest person I know."



4. Sometimes, people surprise you.
My mom takes care of my bedridden grandma who has Alzheimer's. Momma never, ever looks stressed about it. She keeps a running dialogue with Grandma. Sometimes, Grandma nods, but she usually stares in the distance. It's 24/7 thankless job that involves feedings, sponge baths and diaper changes. When I was growing up, my mom was not the doting type. She made me very independent, and I think that was one of best gifts she gave me. To see the level of expert care she provides my grandmother just shows me another layer of the awesome woman my mom is.

What I said: "Oh, look, Grandma has on Christmas socks."

What I meant to say: "Momma, I don't know how you do it. You have earned a first-class ticket to Heaven."

5. Sometimes, you get a handshake from Eddie (Herbert, not Vedder).

Eddie (Vedder, not Herbert)

My ex-husband is named Eddie Herbert. He used to sing in a band called Poison Jamm. Years later, I started following a band called Pearl Jam, whose lead singer is named Eddie Vedder. This coincidence causes a lot of confusion, so I always try to be specific about which Eddie I'm referring to.

Eddie (Herbert) lives only a couple hours from my mom, so our son Marshall got to spend Christmas with him. That meant meeting at a gas station halfway point on Christmas Eve night. When Eddie (Herbert) got out of the car, he shook Jim's hand and then mine--a first. As Marshall stood there in his varsity jacket, I hoped Eddie (Herbert) would say something about it. Comment on how cool it was. But, he didn't.

As Jim and I drove away, though, I saw Eddie (Herbert) touching the jacket, reading it. Just a boy and his dad on Christmas Eve. My heart grew three sizes.

What I said: "Um, yeah, Merry Christmas."

What I should've said: "You are OK as ex-husbands go, Eddie Herbert."

6. Family is where you find it--even if it's all the way out in Social Circle.
So, my brother has a son named Rocky with a woman named Harmony. They live way out in Social Circle. On Christmas morning, Aunt Van and I drove out there to pick up Rocky for the week. I wasn't expecting a gift at all, but Harmony gave me this cool mug that had a ceramic spoon and a quote about aunts on it. I didn't have anything to give her in return. She said, "No problem" in such a kind way that I felt OK about it.

Rocky & Lila, two weeks apart in age

What I said: "Oh, cool, the mug comes with a ceramic spoon."

What I should've said: "Thank you SO MUCH for letting me pick up my nephew on Christmas morning. You are an awesome mom."

7. There's nothing sadder than an unopened ice cream cone ornament.
Every year, I give my brother an ice cream cone ornament. (It's a long story that I'll tell another day.) Because he is wrestling with some personal demons, I didn't know if I would see him this Christmas. But, I brought the ornament anyway and wrapped it up. I didn't see him this year, but I left the gift at my mom's house. And, I'll buy another ice cream cone ornament for him next year. And the year after that.

What I would say if I saw him: "I love you."


8. All roads lead to Hartwell.

Cateechee Club, where the elite meet

When I went to college in 1990, I lost touch with my high school friends. The last couple years, I reconnected with the ones I like via Facebook. This year, we decided to meet up in our hometown the day after Christmas. As my husband and I drove to the Cateechee Club that night, I said, "Look, I haven't seen these people in 20 years. It's either gonna be awesome or really weird." As I walked around the stone fireplace, I saw Kelley and Rodney. They threw their arms up and hugged me and all was right with the world. Then Meredith, Tanya and David showed up, and we laughed for three hours straight.

We filled in the blanks on each other's stories, talked about our common unpopularity, asked about friends who weren't there, texted others to join us ("Call Johnny! Get him over here! Call Michael!") and ordered another round.

At some point, Rodney beckoned the waitress and said, "Can you take our picture? What time do you close?"

The waitress said, "An hour ago."

As we slowly made our way out the door (and handed our phones to the waitress who took a series of blurry pictures), I didn't want any of us to go. Sorry for hugging everybody twice. We posted the blurry pix on Facebook and got a lot of comments--one of them from someone who wrote "Interesting group." Snarky, sure, but it summed us up pretty well.

Just last week, I'd read an article by a self-help guru who said, "Find your tribe." She said that it's important to hang out with the people who make you feel good and to get rid of the people who don't. Well, this is my tribe. I cannot wait to see them all again. I want to hear about the last 20 years of their lives--each of them--in great detail, the kind of detail that you can't capture in three hours at a restaurant.

Today, my husband asked me what my favorite part of Christmas was.

What I said: "The Cateechee Club."

And I meant it.