Christmas Day began at 1:00 am, with someone banging frantically on the balcony door. And it wasn’t Santa Clause.
My family went to the beach for Christmas this year. Amy, Jenny, and I got the master bedroom of our rental, the idea being that we could all sleep in the giant Queen-sized bed.
Well, we all fit in the bed, but I couldn’t sleep. It was very warm in the room. The hours ticked by, and my family members fell asleep one by one, but I was wide awake.
I decided to step out on the balcony for a bit to cool off. So I did. It was very nice, but all wet. I decided to go back in and get a stool to sit on.
I grasped the door handle, but it didn’t turn.
So I knocked, and knocked, and knocked. No one came. I knocked some more. I don’t know how long I stood there knocking, but it felt like a very long time.
Finally, a tired and annoyed looking Amy opened the door for me. Later I learned that Amy and Jenny woke up in a confused haze, and Jenny didn’t want Amy to open the door for fear it was some serial killer or something.
Amy came home from Thailand weeks ago, but Matt didn’t fly in until late Christmas day. That meant we didn’t open presents until Christmas Adam.
“Mom, there is just one present you HAVE to open Christmas Day,” said Jenny. “It’s from Uncle Fred. He gave it to me last summer to give to you.”
So mom sat down and opened her gift.
Wait, a doll? Why would Uncle Fred give my mother a doll for Christmas?
See, when my mom was a little girl, she always began her Christmas list the same way:
1. Big doll
2. Little doll
3. Walking doll
4. Talking doll
Uncle Fred remembered this, and when he came across a walking talking doll this summer, he bought it for Mom for Christmas.
We ate Christmas pancakes for breakfast…
…except someone ate a banana instead. I don’t know who it was, but they left the peel on the couch.
“Where’s a trash can?” said Mom, holding it up.
“I’ll take care of it,” I said.
The walking doll did not slip, but she did trip and fall on her face.
“I fell mama! Help me up!” said the doll, which I thought was funny but Jenny thought was creepy.
Matt came that evening, and my entire family was together for one day.
One brief and lovely day. And then Ben flew back east to visit his girlfriend.
I just love the holiday season. Things happen. People who have moved away come home. Friends and neighbors and students and parishioners give us baskets heaping with candy and fancy cheese.
We students get off of school, but not long enough to be expected to get a job. Just a break.
Sometimes it’s nice to just get a break.
Happy New Year!
In my opinion, New Years is situated at a very awkward time of the year. Time, in my head, is divided in school years, not calendar years.
Like, I will very easily recall that Stephanie Coblentz and went through a phase of extreme admiration for the movie “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” during my freshman year of high school, but I couldn’t tell you if it was in 2004 or 2005.
I guess that’s just another reason it would be nice to live in Australia.
In general I think of September as the new year, not January. But this year I’m trying to come around to the traditional way of thinking a bit, because I’m in need of a do-over. A clean slate.
I didn’t post much this fall because I was having a hard time at college. A hard time with my health, a hard time making friends, a hard time with the materialistic and claw-your-way-to-the-top-of-the-food-chain atmosphere of my university.
But I’ve decided that it’s going to get better, and it starts with a break, and a new year, and a new term.