A Holiday with Dad

We spent last weekend with my Dad. We won’t be there for Christmas so we made it our holiday weekend. Dad is 92 years old. He lives by himself in the house built in 1985 for him and my mom. He still does his own housework and cooks for himself. Yes, the house is a might on the dirty side. He can’t see as well as he used to. He has been a little upset with us lately because we asked him to stop driving.

He sleeps on a pallet on the couch in the living room because he hasn’t slept in the bed in the master bedroom since my mom died over 20 years ago.

He used to keep a roaring fire going in fireplace all winter until he got COPD and can’t breathe well. Except for being hard of hearing he’s still mentally agile. Of course he is contrary but he has always been that way.

He loves the St. Louis Cardinals and in the summer lives for Cards game broadcasts. Which he used to listen too on the radio, but we got him satellite TV and now he watches every game. The sound is turned up as load as it will go, we couldn’t talk even if we wanted to, which we wouldn’t dare do, he may miss a play. I don’t think he likes replays.

Dad, have a great Christmas, we love you so much.

The Zen of Hanging Christmas Lights

I have been hanging Christmas lights, both indoors and outdoors, for over two decades. You would think by now that I would have a failsafe system. But each winter I feel as if it’s my first time all over again.

The last ten years my wife has taken over the duty of putting lights on the Christmas tree. She had to it if she was going to get them up before Christmas Day. I became so good at procrastinating that her female, “I’ll just do it myself” gene eventually took over.

That leaves me with only the outdoor lights. Each Spring when I finally get around to taking down the lights I always promise myself I’ll pay attention to just how it worked. I have even made copious notes and diagrams just how to put the lights up the next winter.

So along comes Thanksgiving and I begin to think about the lighting. Each nice day I think, “Oh, I have plenty of time. The weather’s nice and I have it all worked out from last year.” Usually the week before Christmas when a really cold front moves in (snow really helps motivate me)I finally give in and don heavy coat and gloves to hang the outdoor Christmas lights.

Of course I have no idea what my notes mean. So I’m at it again. A newbie all over again. But after a mild case of frostbite I get the decorations up and they look pretty nice.

Next year I’ll do even better because I’m going to remember just how this all works.

The Beginning of a Tradition

This Thanksgiving it was fantastic to have my whole family home. Each one of my children are either working toward or already in a career that someday will most likely take them far away from home. It was a delight to have them all crowded around the dining table on Thanksgiving Day. As my late father-in-law would have said, “This is glorious!”

Almost every family has it’s holiday traditions. My wife’s family would have everyone hold hands around the table as her father said a blessing; which most often was more of a short speech on how happy he was to have everyone “home” and a short newsletter on what was happening in the family. Being my shy, introverted self this was an awkward feeling moment for me the first few years, however I got used to it and eventually learned to look forward to what he would have to say at any particular dinner. Today his family still carries on the tradition each holiday although no one can quite put the panche’ into it that Jack did.

My family didn’t have any special tradition. I tried to emulate the hand-holding speech making but it just wasn’t me. And I could tell it made the new members of the family uncomfortable, just as it had made me so many years ago. This year at Thanksgiving, thanks to a  family member that works in a vineyard and winery we had some great wines. So I made a toast before the dinner. I started by thanking everyone for being there and how delighted I was that they all could make it. Not too long after the dinner was underway my daughter made a toast to the cook and later near the end she made a toast to all the members of the family that are working so hard to follow their dreams. I think we may have stumbled on to what I hope will be Our Tradition.

I am going to call it an Open Toast tradition. At any time during the dinner, anyone, if the mood strikes them can make a toast. I think it will be fun. Of course we will need to keep the wine glasses full.