File: Family, Holidays, Friends, and Philosophy

Weekend 1/2 of awesome.

The weekend before last, Matt and I went down to Florida for a belated Hanukkah/Christmas/my birthday/dad's birthday/Shane's birthday celebration. It was so much fun. My mom described it as the best Christmas we've ever had. I think she's right. Everything was so relaxed and wonderful. It was just easy to be.

The gift that we thought really kicked some a was this electronic picture frame. It scrolls through your photos, has a remote, and is overall very cool. Knowing their love of photos, it seemed like a slam dunk.

Normally, when we get into my parents' house, there's a light-hearted inspection of what's different. This year was no different. Dad showed us his train set and the entire Christmas village (they had kept it all up in our honor), Mom showed off the tree and the new tv, and they both showed us the new picture frame, beaming with pride at their technological accomplishment. Yes, friends, the very same picture frame we had proudly bought the day after Thanksgiving. Matt, a mischievous imp at heart, began asking questions about this photo frame. I wanted the earth to swallow me because I was so mortified, but Matt stood there gleefully inquiring about every aspect of their purchase, which let the record show, they had bought the very day we arrived. Our luggage didn't arrive until the next day (my fault, more about that later), so this act continued for hours, with me wandering around one of the lower circles of Hades. When they opened their gift (finally), they seemed genuinely excited because they claimed they wanted two anyway. My parents deserve Oscars.

My parents overdid it on everything -- we both have the new Nintendos and a new vacuum cleaner-- but it was great. They even managed to pull off a surprise: Christel, and her husband Steve, joined us for dinner on Saturday night. I had no idea they were coming because sly Christel and my mother lied to me about her whereabouts. (And I was sad that I wouldn't get to see them.) We had a big cake, which we fed to most of the restaurant. I had forgotten how, in Florida, it's okay to talk to strangers. People will feel no inhibitions about joining your conversation, or if you're walking out of a restaurant that caters to the old and very young, to implore you for cake. That makes even a simple jog to the car an adventure.

We hung out with my aunt and cousins on our last day. I was grateful because my aunt moved around a party to be with us. Brunch, which was actually lunch because my aunt arrived an hour late, was a surreal experience. They've always been really involved with the Special Olympics. This year, they performed in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. They're even having a documentary filmed about them and Cindi Lauper is doing a benefit to raise money for their cause. This is really exciting stuff, but it eclipsed the visit. My aunt is a different person now. She was always driven, something I loved, admired and imitated, but now it's on another level, almost to the point of an obsession where she's unable to see outside herself. I hope I'm off on this, maybe only catching her for one specific moment in time, but it made me really blue.

When I leave and come home, I expect things to be just as I've left them. It saddens me to see big changes because it reminds me that I'm far away and don't get to see them as they gradually occur. There's something calming about going home because, for the most part, my parents don't change drastically. There are things that are new: the diet and fitness plan, a retirees' complete lack of schedule, their increased mobility. These are all good changes, ones I've rallied for. Even my friends don't really change -- it was wonderful to see Christel and Steve as they are. I feel we don't really change either. Yes, exciting things are happening around us and to us and that we're doing, but it seems to happen seamlessly, instead of in jerky stop-motion capture.

I was able to talk about this with my parents and that's what made the weekend so special. I feel like we've finally accepted each other for who we are. More than that, we're celebrating each other for it. It was so wonderful to really listen and really be listened to this belated Christmas. And that's what makes it the best one ever.