Christmas Eve I invited my Uncle John, Aunt Carol, and my cousins Nancy and Mary over for dinner. I hadn't seen Carol and Mary for over 10 years, and since they lived up the road, it seemed ridiculous for them to not visit. Angus made an enormous meat lasagne and I made an enormous spinach pesto lasagne, and together with Melissa and Jeff we braced for the American invasion.

And to my surprise, I had a wonderful evening.

It was constant chatter and reminisicing. Melissa and Jeff were a bit bored, but I found it fantastic, albeit a little eye-opening. They told endless stories of my father's side of the family, a side my sister and I never really were allowed to be a part of after my parents' acrimonious split. They told stories that didn't make any sense to me, even though they looked and reacted as though I was a part of them too-constant streams of presents and expensive gifts, endless visits and phone calls. I only hear from my father's parents twice a year, and I never hear from the others.

Mary let it slip then that my father's family sends endless presents to them as well. Homemade crafts from my grandmother's latest fad. Hundreds of DVDs and Ralph Lauren shirts, things and trinkets from all over the world. Once, she exclaimed with wide eyes, they needed two delivery men to carry all the gifts from my father. I think it was about then that Aunt Carol cottoned on to what was happening, and Mary got a kick under the table.

Gifts needing two delivery men to bring in?

What was this?

I'm not saying that it's the quantity of presents that is what counts, I am not remotely that materialistic, but I really felt...well...embarassed...by not being worthy. I wasn't angry or hurt. I wasn't even jealous. I just felt embarassed that I was so not worthy.

But I buried it all and we kept on chatting and talking, and I truly, truly enjoyed their visit.

On Christmas morning Angus brought up a Bodum full of pipingly sexy coffee and my stocking, which was filled to the rim (with Brim). He handed me a Christmas card and was treated to a kiss and my Christmas card to him in return. We snuggled down under the bed, opened the cards and found that we had given each other the exact same card. Out of all the Christmas cards in all the English card shops, we gave each other the exact same card.

Melissa and Jeff came hurtling into the bedroom with their stockings, which we had stuffed to bursting last night (along with eating the mince pies and drinking up the sherry left for Father Christmas. Hey-he needs help controlling his blood alcohol content, surely?) and together we all ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the contents. Including the complete collection of Roxy Music CDs that Angus had given me...which I had also bought for him.

At least I didn't cut all my hair off and at least he didn't pawn the watch I gave him a few months ago.

We only opened two presents here, the rest got packed up to be taken to Angus' brother Adam's house. That's where the entire family would be getting together to laugh and celebrate the holidays. That's also where Angus and I would be cooking the Christmas dinner, as Adam and Terry do not like cooking much, yet have the space for the entire family. I presented Angus with the Abercrombie jacket he had wanted so badly, and he presented me with a heavy burnished silver necklace he had bought for me in Germany.

Jeff was presented with the remote controller propellor (it's not even a helicopter. It's just one enormous propellor) that he had wanted so badly, and so from then on it was endless-when are we going to fly it, when are we going to fly it, when are we going to fly it?

I think that's the mantra that parents everywhere heard.

Christmas Day Angus, Adam and I spent cooking. I loved being in the kitchen, away from the noise, from the screaming, from the people. I have never in my life been in such a noisy environment-ASPCAs are quieter places. It was such a cacophony of laughter, toys, tears, and above all, love.

It was wonderful and exhausting at the same time.

I wonder if children have a volume control that doesn't include the word ending "-azepam" and "milligrams" in it, and which wouldn't be frowned upon by social services.

We opened presents later, and I had brought my mother's gifts with me. Amidst the turmoil of nearly twenty people opening gifts, I had a little bubble around me of Angus and my presents. Angus gave me many gifts, all of them lovely. Melissa and Jeff gave me numerous homemade gifts, gifts that I love and gifts that adorn my dresser now. My mother had sent lovely sweaters and socks, and a warm fleece Gap sweatshirt that showed me in so many ways just how much she cares. My father sent me a Louis Vuitton bag which I think is real, unless the knock-offs include a supple and lovely suede inside. In which case, I am going all knock-off, all the time.

And there amongst the gifts was a blue bag from my sister. She had written a note explaining that Christmas wasn't for grudges, but that I was no longer part of the family. The note wound up in the fireplace, as only notes that hurt can do. I opened the bag and there was a small box of nice smelling soaps.

Ironic, isn't it. When you don't know the person, don't know the situation, or don't know what to do, you give soap. I gave Terry soap. I gave my nieces soap. Soap is the gift that is nice and perfumed and hides the air of animosity. A little perfumed blobby bit that stays on the hands before it disappears into nothing. freshener designed to ease your senses, if not your heart. Soap is what you give that doesn't give too much of yourself, while at the same time wondering what the other person will think of you, will try to be for you.

I gave my sister soap this year, too.

That night I snuck upstairs where there is phone coverage and found two voicemails-one from my father and one from my mother. My father was going to be busy, but my mother wanted me to call her back. I did, having a surreptitious discussion in the guest room, interrupted often by Ida and Jeff and Ida's new plastic animal hospital being demonstrated, but in the end it was a great phone call, a forgiveness phone call, a phone call that reached across the water and warmed my heart with love.

The next day we went to Angus' mother's house. The 26th of December is called Boxing Day here, and it's a day for more food, more family, more gifts. It was an exhausting day of laughter, food, and children screaming from one room to the next, and so at the end of it we drove home, utterly exhausted.

I survived Christmas. Yesterday Angus' Mum and stepfather came over and I made baked risotto and a banoffee cheesecake (which I hate, but hey-I have eaten enough this holiday season, sitting out the dessert was no biggie). Today is the last bit of it, as Angus' brothers and their families meet with Angus' father. I am going too, as are Melissa and Jeff, and then Christmas is over.

And if I have another mince pie before twelve months have expired, I swear I will beat someone to death with it.

Repeatedly.

-H.

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 10:19 AM | Comments (16) | Add Comment
Post contains 1304 words, total size 7 kb.

1 Really nice writing. Again! Very cool you and Angus gave each other the same card. I'd like to be on the same wavelength with someone like that! Aside from your sister's note, it sounds like you had a wonderful holiday. Happy New Year to you!

Posted by: Kate at December 28, 2004 11:18 AM (0UDqm)

2 Now that's a Christmas! Can't tell you how happy I am about your Mum making overtures of love again. That is so wonderful. I think Sis will come around too, eventually. She at least made a move, even if she tried to disguise it with bravado. Stay strong there. Merry Christmas! :-D

Posted by: Jim at December 28, 2004 11:54 AM (GCA5m)

3 Wow, that sounds both wonderful and exhausting! But as long as it was fun and full of love. The same card and same presents really are quite cute as well.

Posted by: Jadewolff at December 28, 2004 01:22 PM (8MfYL)

4 And if I have another mince pie before twelve months have expired, I swear I will beat someone to death with it. Repeatedly. You could almost say you are going to mince em up?

Posted by: LarryConley at December 28, 2004 01:36 PM (y5h4n)

5 Reconciliation with the family...could there be a better CHRISTmas gift? I thought you were going to have a story book ending when you said there was a note from your sister. Maybe next year. I'm still praying for your health and family relationships. Let us know what the health problem is if/when it's appropriate.

Posted by: Solomon at December 28, 2004 01:42 PM (k1sTy)

6 Glad to see your holidays went well. I agree with the others. It is good to see that your family is making overtures of love, in one form or another. Glad things are going well with Melissa and Jeff also. Was there anything shiny and round included in the packages from Angus?

Posted by: Ice Queen at December 28, 2004 02:02 PM (F6gzK)

7 What is it about soap? When did that become the standard for people you don't know very well? I give the soap gifts all the time to people I'm not overly familiar with, and though they are really nice sets, I always feel a little wierd giving it as a gift. I'm glad that you had a good holiday!

Posted by: amber at December 28, 2004 02:19 PM (/ydz0)

8 We actually had a soap themed Christmas one year. The wife and girlies made scented soaps in various shapes, and gave them out to teachers and neighbors. They even made some soaps using the NASCAR Jell-O mold to make little race cars for the boys across the street, and their Daddy. Oh, and kids do have a volume control, but unfortunately it's on a timer that cannot be accessed by parents.

Posted by: Easy at December 28, 2004 03:15 PM (U89mk)

9 I'm so happy you had a happy Christmas. It's amazing, isn't it? We spend our whole childhoods convincing ourselves we don't need our parents, and in the end it is their love and approval that can somehow end up healing or breaking us. Glad all went well with Angus and all of the families!

Posted by: amy t. at December 28, 2004 03:43 PM (zPssd)

10 that's the closest thing to an O'Henry holiday I've ever heard.

Posted by: kalisah at December 28, 2004 03:50 PM (B6gHW)

11 "Oh, and kids do have a volume control, but unfortunately it's on a timer that cannot be accessed by parents." Amen to that, Easy!

Posted by: Ice Queen at December 28, 2004 09:08 PM (F6gzK)

12 Uh... when I come to London again in February I am totally coming to visit you and angus just to eat. you two are cookin' fools!

Posted by: Snidget at December 29, 2004 06:04 AM (MnHDs)

13 I got a sparkly, shiny round necklace But alas-my boy did not read my other post about what I wanted for Xmas!

Posted by: Helen at December 29, 2004 06:15 PM (QL3eA)

14 Ah, cherish the man who gives you sentimental gifts like jewelry! This year I hinted and hinted that I'd dearly love to open something sweet and sentimental, like a pretty sweater, a pair of jammies, a book of love poems, (inexpensive) jewelry...but, sadly, he would never in a million years give me anything so "impractical." I cried at The Birthday Of The Air Filter. I sound horrible, I know I do. He means well, he really does...and I suppose there could certainly be many worse things than a practical boyfriend. He used to shop at Victoria's Secret for his last girlfriend; I suppose he thinks he's too old for "all that nonsense" now!

Posted by: Lesley at December 29, 2004 07:49 PM (yQGoT)

15 One is never too old for Victoria's Secret. We had a rule-I wanted nothing that would plug in. No appliances for a gift...ever. But you made me laugh with your air filter comment, Leslie. And my condolences.

Posted by: Helen at December 29, 2004 08:02 PM (QL3eA)

16 But, oh! He did go to an English grocery store (I'm in America), and fill my stocking with English candy. That was thoughtful in the extreme!

Posted by: Lesley at December 29, 2004 08:41 PM (yQGoT)

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