This is a reprise of my last year’s after Christmas column. It still applies…
They arrived with presents, one huge backpack, athletic gear, assorted hats, gloves, boots and sets of keys. The immaculately decorated house immediately took on the aspect of chaos that it used to have when children lived here permanently. Christmas had begun.
The schedule was planned by Charlie, and it included some shopping, riding around to see the lights, holiday performances, and dinners out. We had a barbequed turkey on Christmas night, complete with coleslaw and made-from-scratch baked beans. This was an innovation-—we wanted a change from the tired old stuffed turkey that usually graces our table. I would bet thousands that not one family in America leaves the table after Christmas dinner unbloated, and this family was no exception!
The opening of gifts at our house is an all day affair. The champagne we drank on Christmas Eve proved very soporific, and so none of us awoke before ten. Even the dog slept in. With coffee and egg casserole to fortify, we opened gifts for the better part of three hours. Since this was an “austere” year, gifts included boxes of cereal for one daughter, cookbooks from the shelf in the kitchen for the other. The dog opened her gift, and then chewed her way through a few others. We ate and drank coffee for the better part of the day, remaining parked in front of the fire. Fun, fun, fun.
As suddenly as they came, the daughters were gone. Despite assiduous packing, here is what we discovered that was left behind: One hairbrush, a complete set of workout clothes (still sweat covered), a red sweater that had to be retrieved from the restaurant where it was left, two boxes of the “gift” cereal, and various beauty products.
Also left behind was an air of emptiness, and echoes of laughter and late night television. There is silence where there was chattering and shouting, and here and there are remnants of the holiday: a shred of gift wrap under the coffee table, a stray ornament in the corner. The stockings are deflated, hanging there to remind me of those girls.
I have a bad cold. I don’t feel like putting anything away today. So I sit, wrapped in a blanket, thinking about past Christmases, and the days when the kids were still at home. Between coughs, I remember: Marion having strep throat just about every year, and all the Amoxicillin doses. Annie asking for a new saddle every year, and not receiving one (they cost the same amount as a CAR, for Pete’s sake!). The year Nintendo games were all the rage, and our girls didn’t get one. The arguments that resulted from “Trivial Pursuit.” Charlie falling asleep during “family time” watching Christmas movies. The messes that were made in the kitchen by well meaning cooks. The noise, the disruption, and the activity. It was exhausting!
So now I sit, with blanket and coffee. The house is quiet, and there are no cell phones texting, no Ipods recharging, and no hair dryers blowing. There is still more coffee in the pot. I have not tripped over one gym shoe in twenty four hours. The bed in the guestroom is MADE.
The children are where they belong. I am home alone. There is order in the universe.
Molly is a two time Erma Bombeck Writing Award winner, in both the humor and human interest categories. She won honorable mentions in 2010 and 2012.
… and to all a good night.
xo
I love my children and grandchildren, but at my age (older than dirt) the best part is after they all go home and quiet returns. They all live close, so I’ll see them in a day or two. And now, Happy New Year!!
My one and only beloved son will be leaving for college next August and I have been terrified at how quiet and lonely the house will seem, however…this post gives me hope! I do enjoy the quiet and peace when he is so busy and gone most of the time these days, but I enjoy it because I know he will be home soon. I have this sense of upcoming misery when he leaves me for college, but maybe I will actually just embrace the aloneness and cherish even more the short visits when he will be here!
Once again, a beautifully written blog. Like a scene right out of a novel. I feel like I’m right there with you. Thank you again for sharing your life.
Molly … you rock! Seriously. You nailed it with this post. I adore my family, and yet it’s such a relief when the festivities are over and I have my house back in order.
How wonderful of you to share your christmasses past and present with us. I look forward to all your christmasses yet to come. Best wishes for 2011 to you and yours Molly x
Love this post. I’m right in there with you with my stuffy nose and cough, my nice snuggy blanket, and my sudden quiet. You are the best. Happy New Year.
Very nice column, Molly. Many parents of adult children can certainly relate to your spot-on (as usual) observations and feelings.
A very happy and healthy new year to you and Charlie!!
What draws me into these posts is the writing, pure and simple. The issue of “the quality of writing” is an intriguing mix of elements, not all of them reducible to being made comprehensible by means of scientific methodology – You know when you come upon it. It is the reader’s perception through the effect of the writing that somehow the writer is real. It’s that right real thing to which Henry James made reference.
This is meant to be a note of appreciation to the writer of these blogposts.
Wayne
Coffee and egg casserole?
How do you make that? Who came up with such a disgusting sounding idea?
Your columns are wonderful to read, thank you for sharing this with us.
My sons are 19 and 16 and still live at home. Sometimes I exclaim that they still will be living here when they’re 30. But one never knows when this will change.
Perhaps my eldest will move to Amsterdam if he’s accepted in the university he wants to go to. Perhaps my youngest will leave as soon as he’s ready to go to university too – like I did when I was 18. My house would be very empty and silent.
A new phase to walk into – but I don’t want to think about that. Now I simply enjoy having them here with me