Memories, Sadness, and Christmas

This is going to be hard because sometimes things are. My family loves Christmas, especially my mom's side. We get together on Christmas Eve for a big dinner and again on Christmas Day for waffles, ice cream and presents. But it has never been the same since that year. Christmas 2004, the year my Baba died.

I remember the day well, it was Christmas Eve morning and I heard voices from my parents room. My mom came to get me and my sister from out rooms to tell us. Our Baba had died in the wee hours of the morning and we were still having a family dinner that night. The news hit me harder than I thought it would. You see my Baba had numerous health problems including two strokes, one that was debilitating when I was quiet young. She was little more than a ghost, someone who couldn't remember much but was a lovely lady. My grandpa loved her and cared for her even though she was a burden sometimes. She couldn't drive or move very well meaning that my grandpa was responsible for all the house work, cooking, and driving. This was a huge change for my grandpa who had never cooked a day in his life before.

Back to that morning. I was devastated. How could she have died? I knew the answer but it was tough to stomach. I was 12. All of a sudden I had 2 grandparents and one of them was in poor health. It also resulted in the most acquired Christmas I can remember. We still had Christmas Eve dinner but there was the pink elephant that wouldn't go away. What do you say? What do you do? We hugged but the laughs that usually come so easily wouldn't come. There was my aunt's birthday the next day that we celebrated, but it wasn't happy, it was sad and uncomfortable.

My family came from Vermont. I got to see my cousins for the first time in a few years and we made it fun to be together, but it hurt and still hurts sometimes. How could it not. My Grandpa has tried to keep everything the same. Pyjamas on Christmas Eve; waffles, ice cream, and berries on Christmas morning but something is different, not right. It's like there is a different feeling now. One of sadness whenever we have the toast before digging in to another delicious meal. Sadness for all. We lost someone we loved almost nine years ago. Time heals but doesn't mend a broken heart.

I still love Christmas. With all the smells and the tastes how could I not. But it's different as I grow older. My grandpa moved into an apartment this summer. My cousin and her husband bought his house and are hosting dinner for the first time ever; Grandpa is going over to help them though. My sister and I have long been responsible for decorating his place for the price of a meal. We created new traditions and the laughter is back after that devastating Christmas Eve in 2004. The saying "the more things change, the more they remain the same" is true. But life is not static and everything changes but it's the moments that devastate us that remain with us forever.