It's amazing how different I feel after 3 days off work. Technically 5 days since I've had to be at the hospital. I told my classmates, "I miss being a normal person." If I had written any time in the last 4 weeks (and I considered it many times, even drafted one), it would have been depressingly negative. Not that expressing my true feelings isn't important, but you'd rather not hear about that, right? Right.
I am realizing as I get older how much I love and value traditions. Sometimes stupid little things, sometimes great moments of marking times in our lives as monumental.
My dad and I tackled Mt. Elbert today, tallest peak in Colorado. My legs won't thank me tomorrow, but it makes for an impressive addition to my list. When my dad and I climb 14ers, we go to the store the day before to get food for the hike, make our sandwiches, pack our CamelBaks and print out the maps and directions. We get up early and usually have egg sandwiches and coffee, eaten in the car. When we get to the top, we usually start with a picture, a handful of gummi bears (affectionately called "Summit Bears" when hiking), then eat lunch, sign the log, and head back down. The drive back usually involves a stop for coffee (today it was ice cream). It's nice to be able to count on things.
I miss the traditions at Christmas from my grandma's house. Mini pizzas and little sausages, making gross faces at the thought of oyster stew, running around in our church clothes trying not to get them dirty. Trying to stuff about 20 of us in one pew at St. Louis for Christmas Eve Mass. Coming back for ham sandwiches and cheesy potatoes, sneaking some of Aunt Lori's fudge before dessert started, and then scoring a huge piece of mayonnaise cake before the presents were opened, always in order from youngest to oldest. I miss that. In fact, I miss everything about my grandma's house...Pippi Longstocking and the ceiling fan and baseball in the back yard, and the bear in the shed, and Grandpa's grape juice, and Rainbo drinks and too many snacks before bed, and being "punchy." At least I still have those memories to treasure.
I hope I can stay on top of it enough to start my own traditions as life goes on.
For now, Summit Bears will have to do.
2 comments:
I forgot about being "punchy." That makes me sad. I miss baseball in the backyard too. I miss the candy jar and the trash compressor and the exercise bike in the garage and laughing at Grandpa when he fell asleep in the chair watching NASCAR. I guess the trash compressor is still there. Coco put Pippi Longstocking on her Netflix list, so we're gonna watch it together.
Great post, Laura...and good writing. You really captured the essence of Christmas at Grandma's house. I was just there this weekend, but not quite the same. I also think of the Westminster chime in the hall, which now I hear from the church in my neighborhood. And there was making near-burnt popcorn when staying overnight. Grandma doing a million things at once, but, yes, she was "still listening". Clearing her throat before answering the phone. Popsicles too, and that chocolate drink...Chocola.
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