That's The Way It's Supposed To Look

Sometimes I admit I get lost in the idea of what something is supposed to look like in movies. I think it is left over from childhood fantasy.  Christmas Day always has been the relaxing let down part for  me. Presents were opened last night.  Christmas Eve has always held the  Magic. Raym and I were talking this morning about formality and how at times I can get a little uptight. Matt laughed from the kitchen as he was making breakfast. A sweet wry  smile actually crossed his face. I said that if I could I would glue everyone down to their chairs and keep them straight and perfect while we were eating on Christmas Dinner.  The table perfect. It  has absolutely nothing to do with my sweet family whatsoever, and I am so far from  perfectionism as you will find.  


My parents have had the same exact ritual since we were children.  I have held on to the best times I remember, allowing me to be in the present. I can honestly say they have done the best they know how, with their combined parenting skills. In the earlier years with six kids it was mania, with presents being ripped open all at once, running around, and lot's of food being devoured. It seemed enough, how would I know the difference? As we all married, had kids of our own... more mania, running around  and the beat went on. But something changed, I wanted more. I wanted the way it was supposed to look  in the movies. This was a far cry from that. My parents cooking dinner, cleaning the house, and wrapping the presents all on Christmas Day or thereabouts. Whatever kid still living there or showing up that moment would be the sucker caught in their hurricane to help. I never could figure out why I felt so unhappy, I tried very hard to make it feel otherwise. When I tried to change things, my mother would hover over  me and just stare with full commentary. I don't know about anyone else who is creative, but being in a creative process while there is a hovering fool.... well that calls for some teeth bashing. Of course I am kidding, but you know you are thinking, get the hell out of here and hover elsewhere.

At the last minute before people would arrive, the parents would still be disheveled, angry, in their sweats, pajamas, unshowered,  and yelling.  As  soon as everyone arrived we would have to eat immediately, and I mean..... immediately. Presents opened quickly, thoughtlessly, all at once.The very first time I  understood the concept of opening gifts one at a time, was when I went to Raym's Mom's house for Christmas.  Just him, his bro and mom. A  very quiet shindig indeed.It freaked me out to say the least, where were all the wild banshee? Loud noise, fast eating, panic, yelling, anger. Well, there was anger he didn't escape that. They opened gifts one by one VERY SLOWLY.  Did not get it, but kind of dug it.  It  seemed like crickets and tumbleweeds to me but I was 20, to be expected.

 Raym and I have learned so much from one another. He married a tornado, and I married  a slow moving train. To outward appearances at times when a tornado speeds toward a train, especially a slow moving one.... hmmm. But this train picks up speed as the tornado  slows down..  The train now rounds the bend with ease. That is us. We compliment  each other and are more alike than not.So many things we understand and respect in each other.  Creativity, love for our children, for each other, values, commitment, humor, passion, sense of adventure, childhood experiences.

These gifts we have learned to  blend for our family. Beauty that is critical to both of us as artists. Communication/honesty/love/passion/ not staying somewhere for the sake of staying. Nothing is worth that. I wish  my parents well.That is what they know, where there comfort zone is. From a distance it is so much easier not to get caught up in the anger, confusion, I have enough of my own to contend with for a lifetime.  Mine is looking into my husband and children's eyes expressing what they mean to me. We all have our  own ways, I am honoring mine. I have to do it not just the way I think it is supposed to look.... but how I feel. I am.