Saturday, December 24, 2005
Nuclear Family Xmas Shout-Out
On Christmas Eve, I am thinking about my dear little nuclear family, long exploded and re-coalesced in an alternative form.
We were happy together, or attempted to be, for the most part. My mother tried very hard to make us happy, and we smiled when she told us to.
Even my dad and I were happy together, it seemed, until we actually had to face one another.
My sister and I, being each other's map, stars, compass and shoreline, were always happy together, especially left alone.
Christmas Eve, when I was a kid, was formally observed at my paternal grandparents' house, where everything was cool and coordinated in icy colors. The mood was icy, too, and I was never comfortable there. Neither were my parents, and their own problems always seemed to intensify by the end of the evening.
On Christmas day, however, we got to wear our comfy clothes and go to the kozy Kokinos household, where my maternal grandparents and Greek great aunts would joke and play and make the day fun for everyone. Family drama took a much-needed break on Christmas day at Grandma and Grandpa K's house.
Here's a picture of me and my sis from one of the last nuclear-family Christmases we attended. I have no idea exactly what year it is here (and I would love to recall what was in those gifts we're opening), but it's obviously the 80s!
This Christmas Eve, my sister's on her way to the desert, my mom's on her way to the ocean, and I'm hanging out with my cat and my other family, Philip. My dad is probably with his dad. We exchange cards via mail. My sister and I still spend Christmas together all the time, though. We used to celebrate the holidays in Vegas every year for the sheer otherness of it:
Tomorrow, I'll start a serialized blogging of a holiday journal I made five years ago, describing a Christmas and New Year's (2000-1) my sister and I spent in Death Valley, then at a gathering in the deep boonies of Eastern California. It's nice to be out in the middle of nowhere at the verge of the new year, nostalgically observing the shift in the calendar against the backdrop of timeless infinity.
And it's nice to be cozy and warm on Christmas.
Happy Holidays from the soft spot in the center of a very hard nut.
Categories: family, holidays
We were happy together, or attempted to be, for the most part. My mother tried very hard to make us happy, and we smiled when she told us to.
Even my dad and I were happy together, it seemed, until we actually had to face one another.
My sister and I, being each other's map, stars, compass and shoreline, were always happy together, especially left alone.
Christmas Eve, when I was a kid, was formally observed at my paternal grandparents' house, where everything was cool and coordinated in icy colors. The mood was icy, too, and I was never comfortable there. Neither were my parents, and their own problems always seemed to intensify by the end of the evening.
On Christmas day, however, we got to wear our comfy clothes and go to the kozy Kokinos household, where my maternal grandparents and Greek great aunts would joke and play and make the day fun for everyone. Family drama took a much-needed break on Christmas day at Grandma and Grandpa K's house.
Here's a picture of me and my sis from one of the last nuclear-family Christmases we attended. I have no idea exactly what year it is here (and I would love to recall what was in those gifts we're opening), but it's obviously the 80s!
This Christmas Eve, my sister's on her way to the desert, my mom's on her way to the ocean, and I'm hanging out with my cat and my other family, Philip. My dad is probably with his dad. We exchange cards via mail. My sister and I still spend Christmas together all the time, though. We used to celebrate the holidays in Vegas every year for the sheer otherness of it:
Tomorrow, I'll start a serialized blogging of a holiday journal I made five years ago, describing a Christmas and New Year's (2000-1) my sister and I spent in Death Valley, then at a gathering in the deep boonies of Eastern California. It's nice to be out in the middle of nowhere at the verge of the new year, nostalgically observing the shift in the calendar against the backdrop of timeless infinity.
And it's nice to be cozy and warm on Christmas.
Happy Holidays from the soft spot in the center of a very hard nut.
Categories: family, holidays
