Happy holidays!

Christmas was a steamy (compared to the rest of the country) 80 degrees in my hometown of Laredo, Texas--but that didn't compare to the warmth of celebrating with my family and friends.

In the last few years, my large family has lost several of our beloved members. After two decades of ironclad family traditions, it hasn't been easy adjusting to the changes these losses have brought. Indeed, the absences of those who once led the celebrations--in some form or another--are palpable. But in some way, I'm realizing, that is because we can still feel their presences.

If I squinted hard, I could almost see my poppi, my mother's father, playing Santa on Christmas Eve, passing out gifts to a long line of kids spread out on the cold tile floor. On Christmas day, I could still sense my grandpa, my father's dad, doing the same, calling out names over the clamor of laughter and glasses clinking. I wore one of my grandmother's much-loved berets on Christmas Eve, and I could still smell my nanny while we sat around the breakfast table the next morning. And that's a beautiful thing, one that makes me appreciate the family and friends who still surround me.

What, if anything, did you do to celebrate the holidays? How do you respond to changing traditions?

Comments (0) 26.12.2008. 20:50

Another kind of ring

The other day, my husband asked me what I would do—something totally out of character—if I could have a kind of secret double life. He said he’d moonlight in an English rock band. I was stumped.

After some strenuous thought, I tentatively said that I’d be an Olympic gymnast. Visibly bored, he argued, “But you couldn’t moonlight as an Olympic gymnast. It’d have to be your whole life. What would you do, like, part-time?” Eloquently I said, “Oh,” before falling silent. Then I had it—“A model!” I cried. “How fun would that be? Getting made up all the time and scoring a ton of free clothes.” A little shallow, sure, but I was relatively happy with my choice.

Then, a few minutes later and completely without warning, I knew what I would do: “Wait, wait!” I exclaimed. “Forget the model thing. A professional boxer. That’s what I’d be in my secret part-time life.” He looked startled, then impressed. “Nice,” he said, nodding. I smiled, poking at my bicep.

It was a silly, fun little conversation, and I gave it no more thought until just now. But don’t our bizarre, completely unrealistic (I’m 5’4 and 110 pounds…I’d get pummeled in a boxing ring!) double life choices say something about us? Maybe my incredibly driven, responsible husband needs an outlet where he can just let go and have fun. And maybe I need a break from my sedentary ways; maybe I’d like to do something completely physical, for once, and feel strong and powerful in the process. Interesting, and maybe, just maybe, the cues we needed to develop some new hobbies :)

What would you do in your secret part-time life? And what might that say about your “real” life?

Comments (1) 20.10.2008. 01:35