Holidays

The cluster of holidays is right around the corner. I can't help but think about the holidays that have gone by. There must have been some that were good. There must have. I must be overlooking them.

Yes! I've got it. There were a few holidays sprinkled in my childhood where she and I would bake together. Those are special times. We would bake pumpkin muffins, cookies and more. I was about 13 at the time. We lived in a 2 bedroom apartment, the 3 of us, and we made the best of not having money or family around. I like these memories.

Others creep into my thoughts, though. The many many holidays that were disasters and full of anger and tears and the throwing of pies and other objects. My friends would always be excited about the coming holidays, with their family traditions and rituals. I always dreaded them. I didn't have a house full of family, a warm atmosphere, traditions or anyone to protect me from the extra time spent at home with her. I had tension. There was always some dark cloud looming overhead. Casting a cold shadow on our house, on her. I had to be careful. Very careful about things I said, the tone of my voice. I almost always screwed up and said something unwelcoming and she would explode.

Explode like Hiroshima.

When I was 16 she threw a pie at me on Thanksgiving and another at the couch. I had to try and clean it up as she screamed above me about not respecting her and how much of a bitch I was. I ended up running out of the house and drove away to sit at a local park while others ate peacefully around a table. My boyfriend (now husband) brought me some food so I could have even a small piece of Thanksgiving.

When I was 13 she got violently upset on Halloween. She screamed at me as I met my friend and her parents to go to a haunted fire station. They saw her. Suddenly at the last minute I wasn't allowed to go because she was on edge. Of course I was upset, she had already told me I could go. Then she turned it around and said fine get out of here along with a slew of awful names.

That same year she came home drunk from a Christmas party. Drove drunk. Couldn't make it up the stairs. Crying. Then quickly turned angry because I didn't like that she drove drunk. She spent the rest of the night in her room.

Many many Christmas' have been spent alone, watching tv with my brother and eating a can of soup while she shut herself in her room. If you tried to talk to her she would scream at you about how selfish and ungrateful you were even if all did was get dressed for the day.

As I grew older, moved out and had a life of my own, she began the ritual of creating a huge problem as the holidays approached. Starting a fight and saying such awful things that I didn't want to talk to her anymore. So we wouldn't be in contact for the holidays at all.  For most of the years that I have been out of her house, this is how the holidays go. Even my son's first Christmas.

I hope to make the holidays a joyful time for my family. I don't want them to have hurtful memories of these times.