Seriously? A Christmas tree?: a saga Part 1
Looks pretty good, right? How did this happen? How did I wind up with a freakin Christmas tree literally outshining the little Chanukah banner that I rescued from the garbage pile on clean up day at the synagogue- dwarfing our menorah setup on the windowsill?
As I was nearing the end of my hospital stay, my doctor asked me if there would be any stress during my holiday. After I stopped laughing, I let him know that this was a distinct possibility. So, he ordered me to stay put, and I speedily made a plan to send Steve and the kids to his sister’s while I stayed home.
I am touched to note that when I got home from the hospital and friends found this out, there were many kind offers for me to join Christmas celebrations.
So sweet, but what many do not understand is that being alone on Christmas and, say, taking in a movie and grabbing Chinese is pretty much how I always did things until I started dating Steve.
I grew up a Jew in a very un-Jewish place, so we’d go to the one Chinese restaurant in my town and see the 6 other Jewish families we knew. We’d smile and wave and then hone in on the moo shu.
The prospect of Christmas alone was rather soothing. But, nooooooooo.
December 20th Stephen got a fairly mild stomach virus. Done by the 22nd. No problem.
December 22nd I get really, really ill and my dear husband follows suit. It was a long night. I’ll spare you the details.
December 23 we are still in bad shape. Why do kids get sick for like 2 seconds and adults get their asses kicked? Maybe if I was a raw-food-eating-vitamin-popping-water-swilling saint, things would be different. But I am not, and neither is Steve, so we suffered mightily.
It occurred to us somewhere in the darkening afternoon that maybe nobody should be off to Baltimore the next day to infect the rest of the family. Esme overheard this conversation and began sobbing about how Christmas was supposed to have a tree and lights and stockings and blah blah blah.
We needed a break at the is point, or maybe I did because my husband slept all day while the kids jumped on me and fought constantly as I lay on the couch. I called my mom and asked her take them to TIntin.
After they left I thought, “Rest!” Which was immediately replaced by “Fuck! I have to drag my ass out of the house and get a Christmas tree.” Which, you should know, I swore I would never do.
To be continued…
