We all lie in until about 9a.m., eat, shower and hop in the car. It's time to go a-visitin', Crimbo style.
First stop, about 40 miles away, is my step-brother Tony's and his wife Stacey's house in Stow, Ohio, near Akron, once the 'rubber capital of the world.' If you had a car in the 20th century, the tires (or tyres) probably came from Akron.
Tony and Stacey and their kids Payton and Rylan live in a lovely, quiet suburban street with a paper-shredder of a toy dog, the name of which escapes me. Stacey's parents are there. I haven't seen them since Christmas 1998. Her mother, Lorraine, is a nutter, so we get each other's jokes straight away. Gifts are exchanged, gallons of coffee are drunk and a box of Krispy Kremes disappear. Then we're back in the car, winding our way down to Kent, Ohio.
We visit Rocco's mother Rose. Rocco's sister Regina is looking after her today. Rose has alzheimers, but she still manages to kick out a couple good one-liners at my expense. I'm lucky that she does, and I get that sinking feeling that this may be the last time I see her. I haven't been to her house in over a decade, and I remember it well anyway.
Regina slips nicely into Italian-American mother mode and empties the fridge of lasagne, green salad, cranberry sauce (unusual for Christmas in America), an artichoke dip and crackers. We have lunch and Rose plays with a soft toy goat that sings that goatherd song from Sound of Music when you squeeze it's jaws together. It's funny for awhile, and each time she does it, we know she believes it's the first time. We talk around the goat.
Regina is an elementary (grammar) school teacher in Kent. She loves her work and has been teaching her students, in pairs, to knit. I think this is brilliant and wish someone had shown me how to knit when I was in the fourth grade (age nine or so). Then again, I wish someone would have taught me what APR means and how to shop for the best mortgage, but theory won out over practice when I was in grammar and high school. Boo hoo.
The visit goes well and pleasantly and we head back home. The only strife all day happens in the front seat, but it's not much, and I am learning to ignore all the unnecessary tensions that arise. It's not my business, I keep saying, but I know it's all in me and that overcoming it has been part of my life's major mental well-being project.
My sister gets off work early and we visit for a short while. Before we leave, I snag a bag of last night's leftover ham out of the fridge. It's really amazing ham, and I'm going to make an omelette with it in the morning.
It's not a bad Christmas at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment