it's not about that

I went out to lunch with friends the other day.  It wasn't about food at all (although the pizza was fab).  It was hilarious, inappropriate conversation about a new craft endeavor that I shall market to special friends in the sizes regular and gynormous.  It was about friends giving me excellent birthday advice.  Laughing.  It was about a random stranger walking past us saying, "you are having too much fun."  A good lunch.

Thanksgiving spent with family.  A recipe for some interesting times.  Thanksgiving with my family this year was about something other than being thankful or being with family.  My brother, the ultimate drama queen, somehow makes everything about him.  My senior year of high school, he went MIA.  Every neighborhood conversation became "any news about your brother?"  I probably am selfish, then and now, but I got to the point where I didn't give a rat.  He was found, of course.  He'd moved to Florida to do something or another and didn't feel like telling anyone.  My brother specializes in changing careers.  One Thanksgiving he picked me up from Penn State (where I was hiding because I was supposed to already be gone) in a Mayflower tractor-trailer.  He's been a brilliant software geek (which I have to say was probably the right career for him) which he gave up to go to nursing school.  This one still slays me.  But somehow it seems to be a good profession for him?  Until now of course.  He had cataract surgery recently and something went wrong I guess.  He had to miss working over Thanksgiving and possibly has lost his job at Johnstown Hospital.  Since I've had convo with him about this job- hospital nurses are underpaid and overworked- Who Knew???, I know this is no crying shame for him.  And, imagine this- anyone who has ever been in a hospital, hospitals are loud and it's hard to hear.  This is a problem for a person with total deafness in one ear and loss in the other.  Who knew this would be a problem?  Anyhow.  The point is that my dear brother's eye pain made it impossible for him to sit with the family for a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn't be beat, but not impossible for him to come down 30 minutes later after the food was all cleaned up.  Of course he required food to be served to him and of course he spoke to me.  Never a good plan.  My brother puts the asshole in opinionated.  By which I mean to say, we disagree.  And my disagreeing with him caused a bit of a conversation with my father that could have been avoided had I engaged my brain.  So, Thanksgiving at my family was NOT about being thankful and enjoying family. It was about eating and disappointing my parents because we didn't stay very long.  But dear mom sent us home with lots of goodies.

I'm giving my darling elder spawn a lot of grief about catching the school bus on Tuesday- her last and only opportunity in November to actually ride her assigned bus.  Now, it may not really be the only time this month, but it was a definite rare thing.  But this razzing is not about catching the bus.  It's about playing with her.  I don't really care if she catches the bus or not.  I enjoy our morning car time.  I get the secrets I never hear about otherwise- like which boy she likes at school.  (Can't believe she made the mistake of telling me that after what I did to her last year!!)  And secrets like what she's doing after school or in school and whether she's in district choir or not.  We sing along to CD's.  We giggle and play.  She spends 10 minutes gathering her junk from the front seat to get out of my car, while I turn the volume up to embarrass her. 

And speaking of embarrassing her, her church choir sang last week.  When she sings in church, the father chooses an up close location.  (When I take spawn to church we sit in the back of the balcony where nobody knows what's happening).  Well, I started exchanging notes with Katie as she is not an asset to the abbey.  But apparently my notes weren't really about keeping her on good church behavior.  Because I got to giggling and pretty much carried on throughout the whole service.  Rebecca was in the front row of choir and saw everything, cringing and making the universal finger/eye ball gesture of "I'm watching you."  This made me laugh even more.

It's not about that.  A phone call is not about having something to say, it's about wanting to talk to someone so much that you figure out an excuse.  A hug is not about the reason for the hug, it's about wanting physical reassurance from someone you love.  A smile is not about how something makes you feel, it's about the how the person who did the something makes you feel. 

So I'm working on my holiday attitude.  Christmas and birthdays (which are essentially synchronized in my land) have been about pleasing everyone and failing to please everyone, planning hectic holiday visits with family, hoping for time for friends, wishing for more time- before the holidays and after.  But this is not what it's about.  It's about making time for the things I want to do: hosting a party, singing in choir, singing in my first voice recital, the annual Christmas Eve party with good friends (which I skipped one year to finish Rebecca's Christmas dress- really??), caroling.  It's about choosing what to do with my family: slaying the Christmas tree, hosting birthday parties that the kids plan, encouraging my dad to serve whiskey sours, doing puzzles with the crazy in-laws.  It's about doing for others in ways that make sense for us: wrapping for Toys for Tots, smiling at strangers, maybe only one Angel Tree gift this year.  So, my mantra for this season, it's not about that.  When I forget, please remind me: preferably with a phone call, hug, smile or lunch date.