A Blue Christmas, Indeed
Posted By Hinda Mandell on December 29, 2009
By Faigel
At Christmas Eve dinner my nephew sits to my right, staring at me as I pile potato dumplings, sauerkraut, and some sort of casserole involving Cheese Whiz (this is the Midwest, after all) into my mouth.
“What?” I ask, annoyed.
“You’ve got some gray hairs,” he responds nonchalantly, motioning to the side of my head.
“Michael! Fuck you!” This is the best I can come up with. I tend to revert to a childhood version of myself at home. This younger Faigel is less … well, how about we say refined.
But alas my nephew is right. And as I’m brushing my teeth later that night there they are—staring back at me in the mirror like little harbingers of death.
Each time I come home for Christmas I’m reminded that I’m another year older. And with each year I can tell that it’s just a little more difficult for my dad to shovel the driveway, and my mom takes a little longer in the kitchen than she used to. These are minor infractions, certainly, and collectively they don’t add up to very much. But there they are: occurring all around us whether we notice or not, whether we approve or not.
While the insanity of staying with my parents often gets to me (they have four dogs, one of which loves to jump in my bed every morning around sunrise and lick me in the mouth), I can’t help but be reminded of the fact that one day, the only way I’ll find my way back to this insanity will be in an alcohol-induced nostalgia. So, I try my best to hold on to these moments as they pass. But they’re effervescent and intangible. It’s like trying to hold a handful of sand (or in my case, champagne)—no matter how hard you try, you just can’t.
I hate the holidays, but I love my family.
I think Christmas is the saddest time of the year, in 300 pithy words.
Nice post, John. Oh those pesky gray hairs. This year has given me too many.
The part about your parents getting slower really got to me. It’s so true and happens to everyone but I wonder how many people actually stop and notice it….
hold on to these moments as they pass indeed.
i know what you mean, i feel like my holiday was similar, an odd living reminder of how things are changing.
Don’t worry, John. I’ve got you beat iin the gray hair department.
You’ll survive them!
J’s worried that his hairdresser today won’t cut his hair when she sees how many gray hairs he has. We got into a debate about whether two grow back for every one, but he does tend to have another one in the same area whenever he or I goes to pluck it out. I think it adds sophistication. Look at the hottie in Better Off Ted, he has a whole grey temple and it’s gorgeous.
That being said, I love the post and the sentiment, which is maybe why Home for the Holidays and Family Stone are two of my favorite, if some of the saddest, movies. And they all end up happily coupled, so there’s hope (if that’s the thing for which you’re hoping).