I'll Be Home for Christmas

I'm happy.

It's a little after midnight, and I'm sitting on the old striped couch that once belonged to my grandmother and is now a fiercely guarded family treasure (despite its objective hideousness). The woodstove is blazing merrily in one corner, and in the opposite corner is the tree. All nine stockings - Mark, Melissa, Juliette, Gabriella, Mom, Dad, Ben, Kat and me - are hanging along the walls beneath the windows. An electric train runs around the base of the tree, and inside its track and along the walls are all the presents - predominantly for the little ones, J and G, but some for the rest of us too.

I'm so happy.

It's wonderful to be here in my uncle's house in NH, our two families together for Christmas. I've always been very close with my uncle, and since he's lived here for nine years it feels familiar and like home in a way no where else does now. And since it's not *my* family's house in NC, where I'm never fully comfortable or settled and where I regularly get lost coming home from routine shopping trips, I'm relaxed in a way I haven't been at Christmas since...since the last time we spent it here. My cousins (Juliette is 3, Gabriella is 2) are unbelievably adorable.

My grandparents not being here also makes a difference. I feel guilty saying it but it's true. I love them both very much, but they create stress for the rest of us in a huge way. Last time they stayed with my family in NC, this exchange occurred: G - "Is there any more pinot grigio?" Me - "No, sorry Grampa, it's gone." G - "...disappointing." So while they are in our thoughts and missed, it makes for a much, much more easygoing holiday season.

I don't know what it is. Maybe it's that I'm officially done with the most demanding semester since fall MA year. Maybe it's that I feel like I real person again and not a mechanical grad student shell of my former self. Maybe it's being reminded that there's parts of me I still really care about that are not in Madison.

There are downsides. I've barely spoken 10 sentences to my parents - not for any real reason, just how it's happened - my sister is a closed book I'm not entirely sure I want to/am ready to open, and I've yet to leave the house to go anywhere but the mall. But even so - I'm very happy, and I find myself smiling at even the most insignificant tableaus. Once upon a time I was naive enough to love my family so much I thought we were perfect, with a perfect dynamic. This year is by no means a return to that, but it makes me feel like, various dysfunctions aside, there's really something here.

Realizing your family is loveable and comforting despite their dysfunctions: isn't that what the holidays are all about?