A Period Of Reflection

December 28, 2007 at 9:26 AM | Posted in Personal | 2 Comments
  Our Holiday traditions are a bit skewed right now.  We haven’t had time to really carve them out in stone.  What we have so far is, Detroit’s kid’s come for a visit and lay round, eating and drinking everything in sight, along with random destruction of private property.  So, the first phase of our celebration is "The Plague of Locusts."  Honestly, what happened to all the cheese?  And there’s never any soda. . .
  We can’t afford to by anything for each other, or anyone else.  We paid for her kids to come down, and I bought my kids something.  And that was it.  And what I got them was pretty damn cheap.  Cashed in coins for gas to go get my paycheck.  This is the tradition known as "Broke as all-piss."
  My daughter is supposed to come over and spend the night every other weekend, but she doesn’t want to.  Not even over all the people in the house.  No, it’s my girlfriend.  It’s still too weird for her, and she wants no part of it.  She says she doesn’t like my girlfriend–I really think it’s that it’s because she’s with me, and not with her mom.  So, I have to spend a part of a day here and there with her.  This is the "Convoluted custody issues" portion of our traditions.
  So instead of having my daughter for part of Christmas day, I have to leave my house and go to my ex’s and spend time with my kids there.  This is known as the "Incredibly Awkward Part" of our tradition.
  It was actually okay.  My ex is . . . lucid . . . which is odd as hell.  I’d like to think it’s because I "broker" her.  It’s only fair; she broke me.  We got along, talked, talked to the kids.  I cried, like a dumbass, because the subject of my dad came up.  My kids came over to me and hugged me.  But she didn’t–which was good.  That would have been too weird.  I helped my son put together an entertainment center.  It was good to–
  Look, I have spent more time with Kim’s son Alex since I left my wife than I have with my own kids.  I really like Alex.  But I just recently decided I need to do something about that, be a better father–and so any chance to spend time with him and do something, I was going to take.  It made me feel good.  I was happy.  I felt like I had mended some bridges; it was important.  It was the "Hallmark Channel" portion of our tradition.
  I happened to see it was getting dark–Holy Shit, it’s almost five!  I have to go.  I called Kim when I got in the car, and she was noticeably upset because I had been gone so long.  Well, fuck.  I can’t–
  I get home and she’s making dinner, won’t speak to me.  I fucked up, I guess.  But I really *really* needed to spend time with my kids.  I was a little jealous that hers were here to be with her, even the one I don’t like that much.  I don’t have that.  But thinking about my kids and my dad–I don’t want to go away from my kids like . .. like my dad did.  And then knowing I upset Kim and I was sorry, but still there wasn’t–
  We surf back and forth between the Hallmark Channel and Lifetime.  I must have some sort of depression.  Not only do I get teary at the drop of a hat, but I’ve been thinking about my dad–and mom, and everything.  I felt alone and I felt like I did wrong because I was gone so long even though I had to and I felt like I couldn’t fix it and I felt like I needed my dad–
  And there it was again.

  We ate dinner, the stony silence portion of our tradition.  Afterwards, I went out in the cold to get soda and toilet paper that we didn’t actually need.  I came back, and sat in the driveway for a while, and cried some more.  I came in, still getting the wall.  It was more than I could take.  I didn’t want to take away from her–she had a legitimate gripe with me–but I was so hurt and vulnerable already.  I needed her–
  And she shifted gears, and was there for me.  I swear I didn’t do it to make her–forget about how mad she was or whatever; I was already so deep in my personal little tar pit of despair–
  We had the rocking and crying and snot blowing tradition.  Part of the reconciliation, I suppose.  She really is wonderful.  She put aside her hurt feelings to comfort me.
  I broke out the southern comfort and coke, and she and I each had a drink.  The burning-heaving in my chest began to subside as I sat at the keyboard and typed–all the while sparks flying as my tears hit the keyboard and shorted it out.  Soon I could type nothing but * and t.  But I persevered, to tell my story. .. .in code.  This may well be the bullshit tradition.  But overall it ended well, I guess.  Just not what we wanted, or expected. 

  And Kim in her Jammies, and I in my sweatpants
  About to settle down for a decent night’s sleep
  The psycho was sleeping or reading or such;
  The kids played video games; they liked them a bunch
  We turned off the PCs and settled into the bed
  The next day at work I was beginning to dread
  I told her I loved her, and cuddled her tight
  She said it too, and kissed me goodnight
  I reflected it had been a good Christmas day
  I would see more of my children now, come what may
  And my love, as I held her, her slight feminine form
  I hoped I would always have her, to help keep me warm
  Tis the season of Tradition, this much is true
  and I hope you have some, that you follow too
  Be it dinner or presents or drinking and such
  But I’m going to bed. . .for me it’s too much

Advertisements

2 Comments »

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

  1. *~*   :o) if you don’t have a smile to give today…  :o) I will give you one of mine…  :o)   *~*

  2. I cried along with you two…beautifully written.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: