Family Ties

I miss my family more and more every single day. I don't know if it is just a part of growing up or what but it feels like I am closer to them now than ever before, even though we are all miles apart. My sister is in Japan and my parents and brothers' family are in SC (just south of the NC border from where we grew up). This year has proven to be a bit tougher on me than I had originally planned for.

Thanksgiving was the worst. On Thanksgiving day I made it a point to have many plans. In the morning time I went to serve food to people who did not have families or loved ones with which to share the holiday. In the afternoon I went to my managers house for some Blue Ribbon BBQ Catered Turkey and Mac and Cheese. Then I finished off the night by ending up at my kindred spirits' home with some of my closest friends I have made throughout the past year. While I was serving up sliced turkey and cran-sauce to the needy, my brother had called and left me a message. It was his entire family wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving and they each took turns leaving their own spin on the good tidings on my voicemail. First, it was Tommy, then Autumn, his oldest, and then Lily, the youngest, and the message finished out with Spring, his wife. I saved the message on my phone until just recently losing it when I made the switch to a new phone because I liked being able to hear all of their voices, whenever I so felt like it.

The Christmas holiday was a bit of a different story. I was busy at work all month (for the most part, despite this horrible economy), so it really helped to get my mind off of things. Then when the actual Christmas Holiday came near it slowly went downhill from there. My original plans were to visit my kindred spirits' for Christmas Eve dinner. This would be a repeat of the aforementioned Thanksgiving Crew. Then, in turn, kindred spirit and "immediate family" (which included her girlfriend and her gf's cousin) would join me for breakfast/brunch on Christmas Day at my apartment. On Christmas day we would relax over brunch and have gift exchange. I made stockings for all that were scheduled to attend. On the actual Christmas day, however, my kindred spirit and her girlfriend had an incredibly huge fight. Cut to me, standing in my kitchen, taking the finished egg casserole out of the oven and putting it on the countertop beside the french toast set up that I had prepared, and then the phone rang. I got the news that they were not coming. I had mounds of French Toast awaiting their arrival. I had prepared three stockings that were completely overstuffed with goodies and candies and had spent my last $150 to do so. On Christmas Day I sat in my living room, eating tons of French Toast and missing my family with every ounce of my being. The reasoning behind this set up was from my own history of how the Christmas Holiday should be spent. A little time here, a little time there, and a lot of time in between.

For the longest time in my family our Holiday breakdown had always been as such; Christmas Eve at Aunt Deborah's, Immediate family gift exchange afterwards at our house, and then off to Aunt Glenda's on Christmas Day, in the morning. It was this way for as long as I could remember, that is, until families started to grow and divide and eventually our time together became much more precious. Deborah's annual festivities began to turn more from family, into friends. As older generations passed Deborah tried to fill the voids with her friends that she had made along the way. Despite her better judgement and taste when it came to choices of social circles, we loved Deborah very dearly, yet in the end, we would have preferred to be with some of our own kind (to say the least!). So eventually we broke away from the Christmas Eve at Deborah's annual tradition, and began to have our own more intimate setting. We began to have a regular dinner at our parents house, typically we would have steak. Dad would boast of the new way he had found to cook/grill it, while mom would mention a new cake recipe she had discovered. As we neared the end of our meals we all knew what was about to unfold. Mom always had kind words of wisdom and virtue to bestow upon our family regarding thankfulness for a good year, or finding peace at the end of long road travelled. Then we would light advent candles and take turns expressing what things we were appreciative of over the past year. The last dinner like this that I can remember was the one when Jessica, my niece, and daughter of my sister, stood up on her chair and said, "Poopy, poopy, poopy!" Because she was delighted that she had finally mastered going poopy in the potty.

After dinner was the annual immediate family gift exchange. As a child I had always "played santa" so to speak, by way of being the go to person for delivering gifts to the appropriate parties. As nephews, nieces, and grandchildren arrived the role was passed on through the generations. The traditional family gift exchange became more focused on the kids. Attention was paid to the new betsy wetsys and to the Mega Lego Sets that "Santa" had bestowed. Yet this is what Santa had always intended.

As children, our plan, on Christmas day was that I would wake up. Knock LOUDLY on my brother and sister's doors to wake them. Typically my brother would stay in bed but my sister would wake up to help me rally up the troups. Then we would have to make sure to wake up mom and dad first before heading into the living room to see what Nintendo games and transformers that Santa had graced us with this year. As time passed and into adulthood we grew, Christmas mornings, of course, were mainly for the kids. By the time I made it downstairs for coffee Jake had already made it halfway through his lego set and Jessica was eating buttered sausage biscuits in the kitchen.

Glenda's Annual Christmas Day was always quite different from that of Aunt Deborah's. At Deborah's we would find ways to slip whoopie cushions underneath our 80-year-old Great Aunt Estelle, and try our hardest not to let Aunt Deborah "goose" our "fannies". We would listen to great stories of the mysterious "Bumpty Skeets" and overhear Deborah speak of her friends with names like "Cooter Rabbit". To us, Aunt Deborah's life was something of a fable or fairy tale consisting of colorful nicknames and grandiose ideas. This, of course, was our interpretation as children.

Glenda's house for Christmas was a little more tame. The relatives were a bit more prim and proper and on the contrary from the rowdy bunch at Aunt Deborah's there were no whoopie cousins within a 50 mile radius of Aunt Glenda's household. At Glenda's we typically sat around being quiet and peaceful and waiting for lunch to be served. We would talk to Uncle Jimmy's relatives who were definitely from a different side of the tracks than that of our own family but that's what being related is all about. Blood is thicker than water. Whatever the hell that means when you find yourself talking to grown women who still has a fascination with the character Mickey Mouse, and is absolutely passionate about everything Disney. It is awfully hard to hold a steady conversation about the Walt Disney Enterprise, when the last thing you remember about the company, as a whole, is that you were 8 years old when you last visited his theme park and that you haven't seen a Disney movie in the last 5 years.

Family is Family. I took both sides of this coin and grew up becoming accustomed to each of them. I have been honored to look back over time and see the VERY different train tracks that my mother and father have travelled on and been happy to see how great they have become when they unite. I like the idea that my immediate family is made up of a little bit of both of the Christmas experiences I had growing up as a Tucker.

My family is broken down as such 45% Tame, 45% Rowdy, and 10% pure whoopie cushion.