I Know What the Holidays Are For

I don’t know how I’d forgotten this fact; perhaps after too many years spent among boyfriends, girlfriends and my adopted family of friends, I’d forgotten all about the abuse one can almost always find nowhere except for at the hands of a relative (either through blood or marriage) in a home the victim typically doesn’t frequent but a few times a year or, like newlywed me, for the first time ever. Whichever the case, some things we can all share in are maximum embarrassment in a foreign sphere, a choking down of hypocrisy, and lastly, a strange and latent masochistic desire to keep engaging the perp, for better or for worse.

My own fall from grace came from a scenario I lost with my partner, who very much wanted me to attend what (apparently, though at this point I seriously doubt it, at least if the feistiness of said relative is any indicator at all) is supposed to be his elderly relative’s “last Christmas” up at the farm/compound, one of those majestic and beautiful places seemingly sprung from the heavens specifically to engender these kinds of situations. Mo money = mo problems, indeed.

For whatever reason, the relative, an elderly woman whose very presence flies in the face of the reason we “honor our mothers and fathers”, seems to enjoy making herself out to be a victim of everything in the world despite having been handed a husband, a teaching job, and several million dollars with which to grow and play with. Apparently all of this isn’t good enough, and I suppose that if I refused to read a book or a newspaper or make friends or if I insisted on going nowhere or doing anything with the money left me except complain that I COULD do something if I wanted to, as no one I’ve helped is even remotely thankful (despite all of the thanks and praise, which somehow disintegrates into the ether before ever reaching her impoverished ears or eyes)…

…Sigh…at any rate, I’m being reminded this week of exactly why I have spent my last nearly 20 years of my adult life carefully cultivating my holiday crowd to the point of self-loving isolation: it’s all about Releasing My Soul From the Crazy. It is a worthy cause for those in the know.

Later: Let’s Get Specific-al…!