After The Holidays

While finishing up dinner with the kids, listening to “Aja” album by Steely Dan, my mind begins to wonder. Now that the holidays are over, I begin to reflect on how they went. Could I have acted different? Did I enjoy the time spent with family? Was that gossip really necessary to share? Did I express my pleasure with the gifts that were given to me? Did my Grandmother’s presence bring us closer together? Did I connect with the group of friends that I needed to?

My take on a joyous Gingerbread Fire Station

As I navigate through my thoughts, one thing comes to mind, I’ve been told that I am hard to shop for. All the birthdays, anniversaries, Father’s Days, and Christmas gifts given to me have had that underlining pressure of “I hope he likes it” or “what do we get him?” For the second year in a row I pulled out my Google Doc and asked my family for a couple of specific things, I was focussed on staying within a budget and something that is easily accessible. I don’t know if your Mom is the same way as mine, but technology and her are not friends at all! Because of that, I wanted to make things as easy as possible for her. My sisters and mom bought me exactly what I wanted, but I was still was left with disappointment. I felt as even though they gave me what I asked for, it wasn’t enough. Felt like there was no effort. It is something I am working through, because I know its not fair to them. I know that I should appreciate the thought and care they put into getting something for me, because Christmas isn’t about the gifts. It is about those you love and spend time with. As a materialistic person, it’s hard to continue with appreciate the moments and not products.

I can honestly say, that this may have been the best holiday with my family. During this time, we are usually arguing, getting over a fight, or not together. Other than a stress driven frustration that occurred on Thanksgiving, I think this holiday season went without an issue. We laughed, we talked, we danced, we cried, and we definitely ATE! That was the most important part; the food. Isn’t it funny how food keeps us together? My Mom cooks the meals for important events, but for Thanksgiving she asks one thing, its a big one, she asks the kids to cook for her. So we do. We share the responsibility of the dinner. My little sister makes the turkey, my big sister makes some sides, and I make the honey glazed ham and mashed potatoes (shout out to Chef John on YouTube). It works for us!

My mom is a great cook. My father was a fantastic cook as well, but he only cooked American food or Italian food. He was never able to cook food from his home country, El Salvador. So for Thanksgiving, he cooked. For a few years while he was in jail or after he was deported, my mom tried to cook it all. It just never worked the way she wanted it to. When we moved to the home she is in now, we, the kids, were told to make the dinner. It’s a true pain, but we don’t for her. We want her to kick her feet up and relax, that still never happens. She is always involved one way or another. We tell her to get out of the kitchen, but she hits us with the “This is my kitchen!”. Even in her older years, she still scares us straight.

Food brought us closer together. It allowed us to plan and execute a difficult task. I am proud of us for doing this.

I don’t remember if I have ever touched on the relationship with me and my Grandmother on my Mother’s side. I wouldn’t even call it a relationship really. At a very young age I notice that she wasn’t providing me with the same care and tenderness as my other cousins were receiving. I knew at a young age that whenever I did get close to her, her touch and tone of voice were very forced and rough. Or “pésima” in Spanish. As I got older, I began to distance myself from her as much as possible, of course, since she was family, I wasn’t able to completely remove her out of my life. Keeping her at a distance was good for me.

Moving to the Midwest was a blessing for me. I lost contact with “family” who I knew didn’t fit in my life. I knew their motives weren’t in the right place. I knew our family would be better off without them. I was happy. My grandmother and I lost contact when we moved. When she called my Mom, I immediately went to another room or told my mom “no estoy aqui!”. I’ve never been one for small talk anyway. Over the last 6 years I’ve seen more and more of her because she moved to Chicago with my cousin and her family. Seeing my older cousin has been amazing. I love every minute of her visits because it bring back the old memories of us all spending time together. Granted, things look different now, we are older, and have kids.

This New Years Eve, my cousin, her family, and my grandmother made the drive down to Nebraska to celebrate together. Like most things, they start off great, but quickly go downhill, especially when there is underlying tension. Everything went smoothly during dinner, we enjoyed each other’s company, we played music and just sat there. But the mood switched when the alcohol was introduced. My grandmother is in her late 70s and her health is dwindling. Once she began to drink, the gloves were off. She said to me, “why have you never cared for me?” That took me by surprise since, I believe, she should be taking care of me and building that bond with me. I as a kid should not be the one carrying that relationship. She kept on going “you were always distant.” Yes. She ended our conversation by asking me to play a song that she loved by Paquita La Del Barrio “Rata De Dos Patas”. She sounded great while singing it, but I felt as if she was singing it to me and if you speak Spanish, this song is a hateful one. Rata de dos patas translates to rat with two legs. I was floored.

My Mom and I spoke about it the next day. She was as surprised as I was. She understood that the relationship between her mother and I has never been great and just wants me to show some sense of respect, which I do. She appreciates the fact that I make an effort in coming around when she’s in town. I personally don’t ask for much from my Mom because I understand she’s in a tough spot.

I thank therapy for not letting any of this get me down. Not allowing her actions to cloud my night. Not focusing on her negativity. I spent time with family. I loved their company. I even embarrassed my older nieces, I asked them about their boyfriends, how school was going, and what their future was looking. Yes, I’m that Uncle. That’s what the holidays are all about. Being with the ones you love, even if there is a family member that brings you down. Not letting their actions affect you is how the battle is won.

Spending time with my family during the holidays is always stressful, but I have grown to appreciate it more and more each year. I hope that the memories continue to grow and that my kids will continue the traditions we set in place now, one way or another.

Disclaimer: I didn’t take too many pictures during our time together. That’s a good thing, right?

I do it for my kids and nieces.