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I sat down to a cup of coffee at home to contemplate the holiday. It's time for confession. Since moving into this house on the first of November, my mom has lent me $725 to make my rent, given me money for laundry twice, given me food during visits there, and purchased close to $100 worth of groceries for me here. If not for her, I wouldn't hazard to guess what shape I'd be in right now. Her generosity is what's kept me close to Catherine. The confession is that I've returned her kindness by lying to her. How do you say to someone who's given you everything that all your money is gone, that you've no means to pay other bills that are due? I lied to her, telling her I began working a second-shift job three weeks ago. She's under the impression things are going to be okay for me. (Things are going to be okay for me, but not nearly as soon as she believes.) She believes the reason I didn't come home for Christmas was that I was scheduled to work Friday night and couldn't make it down until today. After my first cup of coffee and two half-cigarettes Christmas morning, it was time to start my day. I treated myself to a breakfast of three pieces of French toast with maple syrup and three sausage links. I ate it sitting next to my breakfast companion, my ivy that sits by the window on the edge of my kitchen table. After breakfast (which was so good that I decided to add my French toast recipe to the new Mark's Kitchen section of my website), it was time for Christmas greetings. Just as I was about to reach for the phone, it rang. It was Catherine, wishing me a merry Christmas and telling me what all she received. We had a very happy half-hour conversation together. I called Dad and Kathie next. They're having a typical Arkansas Christmas... this weekend it's supposed to be 60° there and a golf date's been set. Finally it was Mom's turn, and I spoke to everyone there. Lori and Tony went out to finish their shopping at 1:30am Christmas Eve, so both were at their very best that day. Lori finally went to bed at 6am. Mom followed suit, staying up wrapping gifts until 7:30 Christmas morning as well. (She usually has her holiday stuff done weeks in advance, but with her broken foot and ill health of late this season's been harder than most.) When I was young, the events of our Christmas became family traditions. First was the annual Christmas Eve shopping trip. By the 24th, there was always one or two things yet to be bought, so Dad would take us out to breakfast, then to whatever stores we needed to hit. The shopping would be done by noon, and we'd go to a tavern to shoot pool and drink pop (beer after age 18). Finally we'd go home to wrap the last of our gifts. (Another tradition was that I used to buy Mom a poinsettia each Christmas.) Presents were opened Christmas morning, then after breakfast and cleaning up the living room, our family would go to visit other families around the lake... to wish our friends happy holidays and share what toys we received. I suppose my Christmas call-around stems from my upbringing. |