For the Love of Family

We travel to Houston for Christmas every year. It's a long journey because we go by car so our boys can travel with us. We have been going since the 1980's when Hubby's sister lived in an apartment and we were each pre-dogs/cats.

We used to garage sale in the summer and acquire strange Christmas presents that we would give -- and then ask the recipient to guess exactly what the item was. Hubby's sister was a computer programmer in the 1980's when that was a strange and new profession. One year she gave us used computer chips -- and we had no idea what they were. In the picture below we had decorated her balcony for some contest held in her complex.



As we all matured, Hubby's sister moved into her own townhouse. We always stayed with her and she would abandon her bed to us, sleeping either with friends or in the guest bedroom in a sleeping bag. In 1990 we started arriving with a dog. Several years later she had a cat. We added Christmas stockings into the mix for our fur children. The fireplace in this home didn't actually work but she filled it with candles so we had the correct ambiance. In the picture on the right we had spent the Christmas holiday revamping her kitchen -- and Sister had given Hubby a matching sweater for Christmas and he had given her a matching hat.




Eventually Hubby's sister moved into a very elegant townhouse with a working fireplace. That year we lit the gas logs on Christmas morning, but the temps outside were so warm we had to also run the central air conditioning. The picture on the left is of Hubby's train track. The train is a huge German toy train that has enough track to run through half the living room -- including through the glass coffee table. Notice also that the gift giving has gotten just a bit out-of-hand.






Then Hubby's sister retired from her management position with a big Texas oil company and decided that she would rent her now two townhouses for extra income. She and her two cats moved in with a good friend. We were still welcomed with open arms but it seemed prudent at that time to stay in a motel when we visited. The picture at the bottom right is of Hubby feeding Wolfie his Christmas treats while Omri, the cat, watches. Both Om and Wolf are now gone -- but they are both with us in our hearts.



After a couple of years, Hubby's sister moved into a sweet little rental property, owned by another good friend. With only bedroom, we continued to stay in a motel during Christmas week.




Last year, after a series of hurricanes in the Houston area, Hubby's sister decided to sell one townhouse and move into the more elegant one -- and we were once again back together for the entire holiday. Sister decorated, Hubby cooked, and we celebrated like a loving family should.

This year's holiday was one of the best ever. The presents we gave seemed perfect. The laughter we shared was loud and long. The carols were sung. The traditional fried chicken and potato salad were devoured. And the love was shared. Christmas belongs to family. It renews you for the upcoming year and gives you the strength to carry on. Our family may not be a traditional one and it may be small in number -- but we nurture each other, we value our unique characteristics, and we support each other's lives. There is tremendous benefit in the renewal this family brings to our lives.

Home Sweet Home

We are back from a fabulous Christmas in Houston. Temps there were in the 60's during the day and we wore short sleeves and sandals. Temps in the Heartland hover around 20 and yesterday evening 3 inches of snow fell. Still -- home looks mighty sweet.

Holiday Life in Bullet Points

Fastest update manageable:

• Holiday party at school went well; kids had fun; Hubby brought in individual bottles of sparkling cider for the 16 Advisory teens and a package of plastic champagne flutes -- the kids were in heaven; everyone got a stocking filled with oranges, kisses, peanuts, candy canes, an ornament (all those years of buying Hallmarks at after Christmas sales) and jewelry for the girls, tools for the boys; high times for at 16 year old
• Saw my own doctor for the gout, which I still have; no magic pill available no matter how much I beg; infection still running rampant, hence gout still hanging on; damn
• Mother update decrees she does not need second knee replacement so she is back in her own home for the holidays after a brief hospitalization
• Dogs see groomer tomorrow for Christmas cut; seems I need one, too -- but . . .
• Grades delivered today for fall grad course -- eked out an A but just barely (the final paper was a B+) -- looked like from the course graph that it was my perfect attendance that managed to garner the A for the course; 4.0 grade average, Yeah! Baby!, still in tact
• We leave for Christmas holidays on Friday after school - we're driving, of course, so the dogs can go; not nearly ready -- no packing yet, wash still undone, no wrapping -- but I have found the presents; my hope is that I can put the right gouty foot on the accelerator pedal come Saturday morning when it's my turn to drive

Happy Holidays everyone! See you on the southern side of the nation in a couple of days.

I End Up in the Emergency Room

Gout is considered a form of crystal deposition arthritis, hence the name, gouty arthritis. Uric acid, a chemical that is found in the serum component of our blood, is the key to understanding gout. Excessively high levels of uric acid lead to the deposition of monosodium urate crystals into joints and certain subcutaneous spaces in the body.

Most acute gouty attacks occur in the late hours of the night. As we sleep, our bodies tend to focus on the primary metabolic functions such as digestion, breathing, etc. The extremities, such as the feet tend to cool as a result of this 'lack of attention'. As they cool, and if the dissolved amount of uric acid is high enough, the result is the change of uric acid from a liquid to a crystal. The hallmark symptoms of gout is the acute onset, usually at night with severe pain.

The symptoms of gout usually appear at night and come on like a freight train. The weight of the bed sheets is often intolerable. One joint or several may be involved. The most common site is the first metatarsal phalangeal joint (big toe joint). The pain is described as crushing and excruciating. Attacks tend to last several days.

And YOU WISH SOMEONE WOULD KNOCK YOU COLD SO YOU WOULD BE UNCONSCIOUS FOR THE DURATION!

Yes, I was struck down on Saturday morning with gout -- and the symptoms and the incredible pain continued until 10 p.m. when Hubby bundled me to the E.R. for diagnosis, some pain pills which did nothing to alleviate the pain, and eventually an IV filled with antibiotics, because my white count was very high, anti-nausea medication and heavy-duty pain meds. Finally sweet relief.

I've been loopy all day -- but the big toe on my right foot is improving and I can stand -- if not completely upright -- at least I can once again shuffle along.

Gout is awful. The pain has been incredible. And I lost the entire weekend before Christmas vacation -- a weekend that was supposed to be filled with all kinds of errands and activities and church and packing for Christmas. But I'm recovering. Blessings all around.

Getting One's Just Desserts

So, after months of silence -- hell, years of non-communication -- my mother called me on Friday of last week. However, when I answered the phone she asked for someone else. I told her, politely, she had the wrong number, and without us ever acknowledging each other she hung up.

Back fill is that sometime in October, I suddenly told Hubby that I was having premonitions that she was in trouble, probably rapidly failing health and that I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she had had to move into a nursing home. She's 81 years old after all, lives totally alone -- well, as alone as a woman with a huge pile of money can be, considering she can afford all the care she needs.

On Tuesday night she had her best friend call me because 1. she had received our Christmas card in the mail and 2. she had also received her Christmas gift from UPS. I had ordered an assortment of old-time food stuff from the Vermont Country Store, things she and I had enjoyed eating when I was a kid: plum pudding and hard sauce, oyster stew, Vermont cheese, and B&M brown bread, special crackers, etc.

Mother, herself, could not call me -- but she had her friend call and say that she would enjoy knowing something about my life. I was totally honest. I told the friend I was done with the situation. I would acknowledge Mother on holidays and her birthday because I felt she didn't have anyone left who would remember she was alive. Certainly there is no other living family other than me. I would send things like flowers and food and warm nighties but I was no longer making a personal investment in the situation. The 35 years she had tried to hurt me in every way she could think of had finally taken their last toll two years ago and I WAS D.O.N.E.! The family that had stood by me during those 35 years, even if not blood relations, would be the family I choose to include and support with my love and affection.

The friend said Mother had been thinking that she might like to send Hubby and me a gift for Christmas, something other than the pears from Harry and David that she had sent every single Christmas for the last 15 years. Four pears -- that's what we got every year. Granted, they are very good pears, but still . . .

And in the middle of that conversation about Mother wondering what we might like as a Christmas gift, the friend told us that Mother had bought the town she lives in a fire truck. Not a toy truck, mind you. The entire real red fire engine. The one they had was old and run down and sometimes they could not get up the mountain roads to isolated cabins. So she bought them a new truck.

For 35 years we've gotten pears and gifts from Goodwill and once a set of stuffed cloth wise men.

I've told myself over and over that she can't hurt me anymore, that she won't make me mad. Still -- over $100,000 for a fire truck -- while I get four pears every year?

I understand that she and my dad made me independent and self-reliant and I have the skills to take care of myself. I know that she was the sole heir for my grandfather's money and she can do with it as she chooses. But goddamn -- what a small fraction of that kind of money would have made in our lives all these years while we drove second hand cars and lived in a tiny bungalow and worked every days of our lives to meet the bills!

If, as the saying goes, you reap what you sow, just exactly what does this say about me?

I understand she's failing in health, a broken hip requiring a replacement, new knees that are not healing properly, twelve thousand a month in home care services because she's terrified of going into a nursing home, some dementia. Maybe she's reaping just a bit of what she's sown, too.

Certainly, neither of us are happy about the situation. We can't resolve it, fix it, or even patch over it for "old time's sake." She won't talk to me; I can't talk to her, not even for a fraction of what that new fire truck cost. It's a total impasse. How sad. How unutterably sad.

2007 Family Christmas Card

Season's Greetings --
Hubby, Milly, Gus (left) and Fritzy (right)

The 2007 Family Christmas Letter

Two years ago we spent a magical night in an enchanted wood and that story became our 2005 Christmas card. Many responded that they cried with us over our heartbreak at our dog’s death.

Immediately following that mystical woodland trek, of course, our lives took even more highly dramatic turns: the life-threatening cranial aneurysm of Hubby the day after Easter in 2006; the loss of my job in May and the subsequent decision in August to return to teaching in a new district and an unknown school after a 16 year absence; the need to re-enter graduate school to earn certification to teach a whole new curriculum; and the arthritic knees that wouldn’t regain strength after a prolonged hospitalization.

Each turn of events, though heart rending in the moment, brought us a new outlook on life, a deeper understanding of our needs and blessings.

In 2007 we can honestly say, that right now, in this place and at this moment, we feel a happiness that we have never known before. We’re traveled this year, spent time with loved ones and dear friends, and reveled in freedom. Our family is healthy and active. We learned to share a deep love and a generosity of spirit that has brought peace and beauty into our lives.

Holiday cards shouldn’t bring tears; they should tell stories of joy and thanksgiving. The magic from that evening in 2005 came full circle in 2007 and we are so grateful to be celebrating our family, our friends, our careers, our joys, and yes, even our lives.

In 2005 we wished that each of you could share in the sprinkling of magic dust that we experienced in those wonder-filled woods. This year we wish even more for you: may the happiness that infuses our lives at this moment surround you and bring you “tidings of great joy.”

Have the merriest Christmas ever and a completely blissful new year! With all our love --

Hubby, Milly, Fritzy, and Gus