The Christmas Butterfly

Living in the country around my Ohio hometown, as I did for many years, major holidays were a time for family dinners.
A relative would offer up their home, everyone would bring something to eat, we’d joke around a lot with each other and make people laugh, and most of us would then sit at a big table together and play a simple card game that might cost each person a dollar. That pretty much explains every family dinner I’ve attended in the last 40 years.
There was a time, in my childhood, when not just my aunts and uncles, but distant cousins of my father and great-aunts and great-uncles would gather at Uncle Lonnie and Aunt Mae’s farmhouse. That was the home of my father’s uncle, the brother of my grand-mother.
Once a year, I would see blood relatives that I barely knew. But the atmosphere was fully welcoming to all. I can’t imagine anyone coming onto the farm that day and not being totally engaged.
At Uncle Lonnie’s and Aunt Mae’s, the activity of the day was a softball game in the cow pasture. The cow patties came into play either as obstacles or bases. We just accepted them as something in the field.
Afterwards, the meal was served by the women. I can still see the soft cotton aprons over their Sunday dresses as they bustled around the small farmhouse kitchen, making room for the many dishes to be shared. No one table could hold all the relatives, so the older crowd sat around the sweetly set dinner table, while the rest of us found benches and other perches outside.
As a kid, I mostly went for my Aunt Effie’s home-made noodles with chicken. Thick, firm, short. egg noodles in a creamy broth with tender chunks of chicken cooked just right. I’d fill up a whole plate with just that. Then I’d go for a cake, probably also Aunt Effie’s. She was a self-taught master cake baker and decorator. Her creations always made desserts a highlight.
As time progressed, Lonnie and Mae passed on and the summer-time softball playing family reunions ended. I rarely saw my once-a-year family members again. But my dad kept up a smaller family reunion of his four brothers and sisters.
So the tradition continues to this day. Though many close relatives have died, my Dad enjoys a full house of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews at least twice a year to celebrate a holiday.
However, I rarely attend. Over eight years ago, I moved 1100 miles away to a southern state. No other family members lived nearby, though in the last few years, two nieces have moved into the state. Holidays have become just a day off from work for me.
Single with no children, I view holidays as downtime where I could lay around the house in comfy clothes, visit a casino for the day, sleep late, go to the dog park, clean the house, or watch a rented movie.
Even Christmas-time was non-celebrated, other than the generous gifts sent by my dad, mom, brother and sister, so I would have "something to open."
Lately, however, my non-planning manifested itself into a busy social season! Having free-time over the holidays with no family obligations to commit oneself leads to acceptance of lots of invites.
So far this week, I’ve attended two Christmas parties and have another gathering of friends on Friday night and Sat morn. I even have a Saturday night date with a male friend in the same familial circumstances as I. I have become a social butterfly!
Keeping oneself open allows for many more opportunities to present themselves. I already knew that lesson, and it’s so nice to be positively reminded of such things.
Living in the moment, enjoying life as it comes, carpe diem; all good things I strive for.
Sometimes, the results are obvious, sometimes barely palpable, sometimes more rewarding than others, sometimes fun, sometimes horrible, but always life in action. It’s a wonderful life in action.
Life happens, even when you don't plan on it.
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