2020 Christmas - me and my Daddy |
Christmas of 2010 was spent in Albany, Georgia at my parents house where we had spent every Christmas since I had gotten married and moved out. The difference, I was now divorced, dating the man who would later become my husband, and of course, I still had my children in tow. They were older now, 24 and 15 years old to be exact. But we all still gathered at my folks for Christmas Day dinner.
This particular year I would notice a tiredness that I hadn't seen before. Or had I seen it and just not been ready to make the change? Hadn't wanted to stop the dream of home and comfort quite yet. The familiar smells and always delicious food that we were guaranteed to take part in devouring when we gathered around the table.
That day, as we all found our seats, I glanced down at the end of the table and saw the biggest silent reality-check one could receive. My daddy and my Mama were sitting next to one another, we were all exclaiming over how good everything looked; and as all of that was happening I saw my daddy put his hand over my mother's and pat her hand a couple of times as if to say, "I know how tired you are, I'm sorry, and I appreciate you".
That's what his expression said to her; to me it was a silent suggestion that it was time. It was time for
someone else to take the heavy reins of responsibility that come with cooking a huge meal like that for 8-10 people. Because back then, even though we asked if we could help or bring food, my sister and I were usually only tasked with bringing the ice or the rolls. So there I was in 2011 - about to embark on the biggest task of my cooking life. I had all the recipes and I was fully capable - meaning I could read and follow directions. I didn't have a big enough table, so for that first year so I rented a long table and some plastic chairs from Bell & Bates. It served it's purpose, we had enough room for everybody to have a place to seat and eat, but I swore the next year my Mama wouldn't be sitting in an uncomfortable, plastic chair at Christmas. The food was mostly alright but there is an art to my mother's dressing and I was definitely not in a Picasso state yet.
The next year, I set out to find a table, the perfect table for my family - all of my family. I would find it at the first store I went to - which was Turner's. And I don't mind doing a little side advertising for them - they are where I always find my best pieces of furniture. I walked the whole store it seemed, then I rounded a corner and there it was! I had to order two extra chairs - but that beautiful table was going to be mine.
As the years have gone by, ten years and counting now, the meals are all served here, and my family sits together in comfort at the perfect table. The meals have improved, meaning the dressing is now becoming "my art" and my kids are older now, and I don't mind at all letting any of them bring a dish or two to complete the meal. They're all good cooks and it's less stress for me!
This will be the first Christmas sitting at the table without Daddy at the head of one end. I know people say there are a lot of first's after a loved one passes away. Father's Day, his grandson's wedding, Thanksgiving, and his December birthday, have all come and gone.
But we're all doing the best we know how. My house, table and bar were packed at Thanksgiving which made me happier than you could imagine, we celebrated Mama's birthday in style, and tomorrow is Christmas.
But tonight - tonight we are going to take Mama riding to look at Christmas lights. She said it had been years since she had been. Once Daddy's disease began to take hold, he didn't feel comfortable driving too far in the daylight - much less in the dark. So I'd say it's been at least 6 or 7 years since she last went. I'm hoping the lights do for all of us what we all feel like is missing - some brightness, color, joy and hope.
Merry Christmas to all - from our family to yours.
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