The Christmas Card Letter
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope the love and joy of this wondrous season wraps you in its embrace and keeps you warm all year long.
Okay, enough of that crap.
Yes, it's that time of year - the receiving of the Christmas card letter. Not the modest accountings of the comings and goings of busy, functional families. Those are fine, and welcome. Instead, I am referring to those literary gems written in the 3rd person, sprinkled liberally with unsubtle references to new cars, new homes, job promotions, European vacations and Mensa children.
I have a long-held Christmas wish to receive exactly the opposite kind of Christmas card letter - confirmation that the lives of other people aren't that much different from mine. Exciting and boring and frustrating and rewarding and stressful. Life as we know it. But because that is never going to happen, I've decided to write one myself - what one mythical man's family might have experienced over the past twelve months:
Greetings from the Smiths - Jeff, Mary, Susan & Brian,
Merry Christmas everyone - I hope your holiday season is going smoothly, your kids aren't too bonkers and everyone's expectations are realistic. This past year has seen a few firsts for the Smiths but since these Christmas card letters don't write themselves, here is your very own Smith Family Year in Review:
January: Honestly, I don't recall much - it was almost a year ago. A fairly blah month in the best of times. Did we leave the house at all? Possibly - I'd have to look back at my bank statement.
February: Mary and I snuck away to Vegas for a long weekend around Valentine's Day. The time away from the same old same old was good for us. The daily routine can really numb a marriage, so this was just what the doctor ordered. Speaking of doctors, the only thing that put a damper on our Sin City trip was the coroner's report stating that the hooker found under our hotel bed had expired at least a week before our arrival. No foolin'. Explained the smell though.
March: We had to put Caesar down on the 15th. An eerie coincidence considering Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (". . . beware the Ides of March"). Our Caesar fared far better than Rome's did. He was a good dog - couldn't get around very well these last few years but his tail wagged every day after work when I came home. I miss him, and how he rested his head on my leg every night at dinner time as I snuck him food. I suppose the ache for the old boy will be there for a while. Brian wanted to get a new dog right away but how could I do that when part of me still expects Caesar to be on the other side of the front door when I get home?
April: Longest. Winter. Ever. I know snowfall isn't personal but my back hasn't completely recovered from all of the shoveling. I did learn, however, that our youngest Brian has the power of invisibility. Time to shovel the driveway - invisible. Time to do homework - invisible. Explain why the phone bill was 500 minutes over the family plan allotment for April - invisible. Time to eat - oh there you are, Brian.
May: A month of endings. Susan graduated on the 30th. She worked hard, despite that loser boyfriend of hers. He had been a weight pulling her down for over a year. Our fingers were crossed that she would choose State College and dump his sorry ass before fall semester. Susan wants to save the rainforests some day and he is content to smoke weed and work at Jimmy John's. In the meantime, her mother and I were silent on the matter, knowing our interference would only cement their relationship further. After all, Mary and I have been together for 20 years now, ever since her parents told her to "give that guy his walking papers."
Summer: What an unexpected season. All four Smiths got new jobs over the summer. Mary began working from home. She needed the change and I'm proud of her for branching out on her own. She's a gutty woman. Speaking of stomach linings, Brian threw up most of his during the night of Susan's graduation party (thought I had locked the liquor cabinet). So, for the rest of the summer he woke up with me at 7am. As I told him every morning, "Brian, your party ended when summer began." To our surprise and relief, there were no complaints and no invisibility. He got a landscaping job and worked hard. Lesson learned, maybe. Susan, of course, was Susan. She came and went; working, volunteering, 18 going on 30 - gearing up for college. And she dropped the boyfriend. Mary and I exchanged high-fives from mid-June through late July.
September: Susan shocked us by choosing Dartmouth. No one even knew she had applied there. Honestly, I had to ask her how to pronounce the name and what state it's in (New Hampshire). That first week of September was rough. We moped around the house teary-eyed, afraid to linger too long in front of Susan's empty bedroom. Naturally, Brian lightened the mood repeatedly, "Hey, what am I - chopped liver?" Chopped ham was our standard reply. Being Susan, she insisted on driving herself out east. "I don't want you guys bawling your eyes out when I meet my new roommate." So it was to our great surprise (and secret pleasure) when she held onto us a long, long time before choking out "I love you" and pulling out of the driveway. But by the time Susan had the car in drive, her chin was high and her eyes were looking straight ahead - classic Susan - though both Mary and I could see her cheeks were wet with tears.
Ever Since Then: What can I say - life settled back into its regular rhythms after Susan left for school. Mary wakes up, brews coffee, checks her emails and then settles into a day of conference calls, manuscript reviews and freelance writing. Brian went out for cross-country, even lettered. He pulled me out of bed one morning in late September and now we start most of our days running three miles together. It's nice. The kid just might turn out okay. All three of us talk/text/Skype with Susan most days, but there has been a drop-off lately. To be expected, I suppose. She's living her own life now. Still, I have overheard Susan and Mary on the phone more than once - Mary simultaneously reassuring and encouraging her, the way she always did when Susan was young. I'm glad she still needs her mom. Me - I'm plowing ahead as usual, learning to enjoy life along the way more than I used to. Ask Mary she'll tell you ("FDA-approved crab-ass, you were"). I guess that's the one thing I've learned this year:
Life can be beautiful when you let it.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Everyone,
The Smiths
p.s. - Have decided to get the family a new dog for Christmas - I hope Caesar understands.
I have a long-held Christmas wish to receive exactly the opposite kind of Christmas card letter - confirmation that the lives of other people aren't that much different from mine. Exciting and boring and frustrating and rewarding and stressful. Life as we know it. But because that is never going to happen, I've decided to write one myself - what one mythical man's family might have experienced over the past twelve months:
Greetings from the Smiths - Jeff, Mary, Susan & Brian,
Merry Christmas everyone - I hope your holiday season is going smoothly, your kids aren't too bonkers and everyone's expectations are realistic. This past year has seen a few firsts for the Smiths but since these Christmas card letters don't write themselves, here is your very own Smith Family Year in Review:
January: Honestly, I don't recall much - it was almost a year ago. A fairly blah month in the best of times. Did we leave the house at all? Possibly - I'd have to look back at my bank statement.
February: Mary and I snuck away to Vegas for a long weekend around Valentine's Day. The time away from the same old same old was good for us. The daily routine can really numb a marriage, so this was just what the doctor ordered. Speaking of doctors, the only thing that put a damper on our Sin City trip was the coroner's report stating that the hooker found under our hotel bed had expired at least a week before our arrival. No foolin'. Explained the smell though.
March: We had to put Caesar down on the 15th. An eerie coincidence considering Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (". . . beware the Ides of March"). Our Caesar fared far better than Rome's did. He was a good dog - couldn't get around very well these last few years but his tail wagged every day after work when I came home. I miss him, and how he rested his head on my leg every night at dinner time as I snuck him food. I suppose the ache for the old boy will be there for a while. Brian wanted to get a new dog right away but how could I do that when part of me still expects Caesar to be on the other side of the front door when I get home?
April: Longest. Winter. Ever. I know snowfall isn't personal but my back hasn't completely recovered from all of the shoveling. I did learn, however, that our youngest Brian has the power of invisibility. Time to shovel the driveway - invisible. Time to do homework - invisible. Explain why the phone bill was 500 minutes over the family plan allotment for April - invisible. Time to eat - oh there you are, Brian.
May: A month of endings. Susan graduated on the 30th. She worked hard, despite that loser boyfriend of hers. He had been a weight pulling her down for over a year. Our fingers were crossed that she would choose State College and dump his sorry ass before fall semester. Susan wants to save the rainforests some day and he is content to smoke weed and work at Jimmy John's. In the meantime, her mother and I were silent on the matter, knowing our interference would only cement their relationship further. After all, Mary and I have been together for 20 years now, ever since her parents told her to "give that guy his walking papers."
Summer: What an unexpected season. All four Smiths got new jobs over the summer. Mary began working from home. She needed the change and I'm proud of her for branching out on her own. She's a gutty woman. Speaking of stomach linings, Brian threw up most of his during the night of Susan's graduation party (thought I had locked the liquor cabinet). So, for the rest of the summer he woke up with me at 7am. As I told him every morning, "Brian, your party ended when summer began." To our surprise and relief, there were no complaints and no invisibility. He got a landscaping job and worked hard. Lesson learned, maybe. Susan, of course, was Susan. She came and went; working, volunteering, 18 going on 30 - gearing up for college. And she dropped the boyfriend. Mary and I exchanged high-fives from mid-June through late July.
September: Susan shocked us by choosing Dartmouth. No one even knew she had applied there. Honestly, I had to ask her how to pronounce the name and what state it's in (New Hampshire). That first week of September was rough. We moped around the house teary-eyed, afraid to linger too long in front of Susan's empty bedroom. Naturally, Brian lightened the mood repeatedly, "Hey, what am I - chopped liver?" Chopped ham was our standard reply. Being Susan, she insisted on driving herself out east. "I don't want you guys bawling your eyes out when I meet my new roommate." So it was to our great surprise (and secret pleasure) when she held onto us a long, long time before choking out "I love you" and pulling out of the driveway. But by the time Susan had the car in drive, her chin was high and her eyes were looking straight ahead - classic Susan - though both Mary and I could see her cheeks were wet with tears.
Ever Since Then: What can I say - life settled back into its regular rhythms after Susan left for school. Mary wakes up, brews coffee, checks her emails and then settles into a day of conference calls, manuscript reviews and freelance writing. Brian went out for cross-country, even lettered. He pulled me out of bed one morning in late September and now we start most of our days running three miles together. It's nice. The kid just might turn out okay. All three of us talk/text/Skype with Susan most days, but there has been a drop-off lately. To be expected, I suppose. She's living her own life now. Still, I have overheard Susan and Mary on the phone more than once - Mary simultaneously reassuring and encouraging her, the way she always did when Susan was young. I'm glad she still needs her mom. Me - I'm plowing ahead as usual, learning to enjoy life along the way more than I used to. Ask Mary she'll tell you ("FDA-approved crab-ass, you were"). I guess that's the one thing I've learned this year:
Life can be beautiful when you let it.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year Everyone,
The Smiths
p.s. - Have decided to get the family a new dog for Christmas - I hope Caesar understands.
I got one of Those Letters today.
ReplyDeleteAll you can do is enjoy the pomposity Marcia :)
DeleteI got one of Those Letters today. Ugh.
ReplyDelete