Happy One

This was a nice holiday.

I should really call my parents and let them know I got home okay. They were up when I left just-outside-of-Flemington-New-Jersey to head to the Trenton Amtrak station at 6:15 am (which meant getting up at... wait for it... 5:30am) but we were all a little bit groggy.

But it was a very nice holiday.

I headed to Downingtown, Pennsylvania on Xmas Eve morn, where my parents were staying with my Aunt K and Uncle J. Aunt K is my mom's second to youngest sister--number five of six. For those of you following, this is the Italian-Catholic side of the family, hence the six kids.

The train left an hour-and-a-half late, but I am not going to complain because the man sitting two seats behind me complained long and loud enough for the entire north-bound train. There was engine trouble, they tried to replace it, it didn't work, they tried to replace it again, we backed into Union Station, they replaced it a third time and finally we were off, a mere ninety minutes behind schedule. Fortunately, I wasn't really in a hurry. Pity the folks on their way to BWI.

As a result I got into the Wilmington, DE station with just enough time to head to my Aunt's house, change, and get ready for guests to start arriving.

I told my mother this weekend that her family is, at times, Shakespearean in its rivalries. Imagine Lear, but with six kids, Rochester accents, and lasagna once a week.

But I won't get into that, because not everything is ripe for public consumption. Suffice it to say, we discussed many of the issues between her brothers and sisters this weekend, some of them present, some not, and my final word is--it is much simpler when there are only two siblings to manage. Furthermore--two siblings who felt equally loved and respected by their parents.

So we started snacking and drinking and watching movies on the big plasma screen TV. This combination of activities pretty much describes the next twenty-six hours, with brief breaks for sleep, church, and presents.

My dad and I started with brandy snifters of Goldschlaggers. There is no good explanation for this.

The movie that was on was John Tucker Must Die. There is no good explanation for this either.

The rest is a blur of red wine, crab dip, manicotti and tiramisu. My Uncle C and Aunt P came in from Easton, PA (C is the second-born, after my mom) and it was nice to see them, though some snarky comments were made by my uber-conservative, downright-grumpy uncle, that I only later thought of worthy responses to. The wine must have dulled my reflexes. The best I got out was--as they were leaving--a half hearted "So, you guys missing Santorum yet?"

Politics are pretty much off limits at these family gatherings. But he deserved it.

The night wound down with a public showing of Invincible during which I fell into a deep, trance-like, food and alcohol induced sleep.

The next morning my mother found me hiding under the covers of the trundle bed in my high school-aged cousin's room.

"Honey, do you want to keep sleeping?"

Naw. But I'm a night dweller. Bright light burns my skin.

"We have to open presents so we can get ready for church. Are you going to church?"

I AM going to church because it is the first opportunity to step out of the house for a few hours and it will be an enforced pause to the never-ending eat fest.

We open presents, shower, dress, and embark. To mass, to mass--a jew, a half jew/agnostic, an excommunicated Catholic, a lapsed Catholic, and two impressionable youth who have known only Catholic schools--we go. My aunt is not part of this equation. She is watching the roast, roast.

Church is fine, the singing is bad, no one is counting and they keep skipping the first rest in "Oh Come all Ye Faithful". The organ player is stubbornly playing it as written instead of following the Pennsylvania suburbanites.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig.

Soon dinner--quiche, caviar, perogis, asparagus, carrots, the roast (which alas, is NOT vegetarian), salad, more drink--kir royales with pomegranate seeds (ummm, yum). Another nap, and then off to my Uncle P's outside of Flemington, NJ. I love my Uncle P's house--it is as comfortable as my own and My Uncle P and Aunt K are my closest relatives beyond my immediate family. There we snacked and gossiped and watched Friends re-runs.

5:30 am, my phone alarm went off--stretch, shower, dress, kiss, hug--and my cousin and I are sent on our way with breakfast bags and travel mugs of coffee. My Uncle assuredly drives us to Trenton though the thickest fog I have ever seen--down the hill that they live on, into the Valley, over hill over dale, and we silently watch the world wake up on December 26, 2006.

Good Morning World.