... Without You
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This was my first Christmas without Wilma.
It was also my first Christmas without my Grandfather.
People were pretty good about both parts though. At my extended family's Christmas Eve get together, my Uncle Foghorn Leghorn asked me how I was holding up, but that was as close as anyone came to bringing it up at Christmas. It never occured to me that the evening would be problematic until I was in the car, on the way there, with my parents. I was sure Sylvester’s kids (Foghorn's grandkids) were going to say something about Wilma not being there, but they didn't, and I was thankful. On Boxing Day my cousin Babs (another of Foghorn's daughters) asked me about why Wilma left, what reason she gave. Babs was concerned because her husband had broken up with her for crazy reasons, but they ended up getting back together. That's not going to happen with WIlma and me. Which is what I told her.
I feel humiliated when I talk about it now. Like a cuckold.
I tried to stay beside my Grandmother on Christmas Eve, so we could have some sort of unspoken "being without people this year" bond. It only partly worked. She was rushing downstairs to the bathroom every few minutes because she was suffering from diarea. And everybody else was clamouring for her attention too. She’s very good at trying to spread it around so no one feels left out.
Foghorn almost stepped on toes about my Grandfather not being there too. On Christmas Eve, Foghorn is always Santa. He hands out presents from my Grandparents, and inter-family presents (immediate family stuff gets put off until Christmas morning). On all the presents from my Grandparents, my Grandmother had left the from spot blank. When Foghorn asked, rather discretely, I might add, everybody who was in the know hissed at him to ignore it, because my Grandmother had intentionally left it blank.
She wasn’t sure if my Grandfather would still be alive by Christmas Eve.
This was my first Christmas without Wilma.
It was also my first Christmas without my Grandfather.
People were pretty good about both parts though. At my extended family's Christmas Eve get together, my Uncle Foghorn Leghorn asked me how I was holding up, but that was as close as anyone came to bringing it up at Christmas. It never occured to me that the evening would be problematic until I was in the car, on the way there, with my parents. I was sure Sylvester’s kids (Foghorn's grandkids) were going to say something about Wilma not being there, but they didn't, and I was thankful. On Boxing Day my cousin Babs (another of Foghorn's daughters) asked me about why Wilma left, what reason she gave. Babs was concerned because her husband had broken up with her for crazy reasons, but they ended up getting back together. That's not going to happen with WIlma and me. Which is what I told her.
I feel humiliated when I talk about it now. Like a cuckold.
I tried to stay beside my Grandmother on Christmas Eve, so we could have some sort of unspoken "being without people this year" bond. It only partly worked. She was rushing downstairs to the bathroom every few minutes because she was suffering from diarea. And everybody else was clamouring for her attention too. She’s very good at trying to spread it around so no one feels left out.
Foghorn almost stepped on toes about my Grandfather not being there too. On Christmas Eve, Foghorn is always Santa. He hands out presents from my Grandparents, and inter-family presents (immediate family stuff gets put off until Christmas morning). On all the presents from my Grandparents, my Grandmother had left the from spot blank. When Foghorn asked, rather discretely, I might add, everybody who was in the know hissed at him to ignore it, because my Grandmother had intentionally left it blank.
She wasn’t sure if my Grandfather would still be alive by Christmas Eve.
posted by deadwriter at 1:19 a.m.
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