Intrepid

Walker, Robyn and I went out to see Mom and bring her a warm blanket and soft comforter for Christmas Day. Generally I go see Mom alone. Robyn comes pretty often, the kids seldom. Walker was not sure Mom knew who he was. She wasn't letting on. I am reluctant to take mom out these days. She doesn't walk well and the chaos of gatherings confuses her. I tell myself I'll try to take her out for a drive first. She liked her gifts but I don't think she really connected them to Christmas. Walker said she had tears in her eyes. Why do I always cry when you come? We drove to Papa's for his gift exchange.

My technique these days is to find a good spot on the big sofa (one of the recliner sections), smile, and watch. I'm also on a "no verbal negativity" diet. If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything. Midwestern wisdom at it's best. You don't hate modern art. It's different, is all. I was pretty quiet. My kids came to sit with me, which is never bad. I got a couple hugs from Papa [one forward, one sideways] and a good, very aerodynamic new bicycle helmet.

My sister in law is a sort of holiday equestrian. She comes to these events and rides her kids. "Brent! Get in here and eat some rolls!" "Brent! Does your mother know you're doing that! [Playing with his Nintendo DS.]" "Did you eat?" "Go back and eat some more!" No one will say these kids did anything for lack of supervision. These folks mean well; perhaps that's what's so disturbing.

Papa is glad to have us all around, but dammit he's in his 80's and if he wants to read the incidental cautionary statements on the outside of the box the DVD player came in out loud to all of us, he's certainly earned that right. Back when there were lots of kids of a certain age, nobody could build the suspense like Papa, reading the label on the little bag of silica that came with your transistor radio. I'm not here because I expect a great gift (got one!). I'm here because he built half my last house, and came to problem solve every practical disaster I encountered in the first 15 years I knew him. Papa has his own way of working things out and if you're not along for the ride, you'd best go some place and gnaw on your hand.

Caitlin went off Highway 30 on the way. She got herself unstuck and drove the rest of the way to Papa's very slowly. She did this unsupervised. Probably could have used some oversight. After a while I drove Caitlin home. "Why do these things always make me so grumpy?" she asked.

"Breathe," I said.

Robyn and Walker came home about an hour later. We watched "Up."

At six, it seemed very late, and we each went to our own corner. The falling rain and ice turned to snow. I noticed the garage door was still open and turned off the porch light and the Christmas tree.

I'm trying to remember how I felt last year at this time. It seems decades ago. I bet I wasn't this glad to be here.