Feliz Navidad

One night in late summer after 6th grade, my mom told us she was going to divorce my dad. My first thought was ‘What about Christmas?’ It was August and yet that was my primary concern. I felt like if our family got all dissected and split apart, the magic of Christmas would surely be lost. It would feel lonely and empty. I depended on Christmas to remind me that we were all okay. We had our traditions- Amy Grant Christmas records, sugar cookie making, decorating, movie watching. 1000 little things that on their own mean nothing, but together somehow make you feel safe, like you are a part of something truly great.
That was about 15 years ago and Christmas has indeed changed in our household. My dad got remarried and we got sewn into the fabric of another family- Merilee, the most amazing stepmom who ever was, and Brian and Sarah, who go so far back into my past that calling them siblings was easy as pie. It has never surprised me that Sarie and I were destined to be sisters.

Fast forward to 2008.
On my first night in town, I went to dinner with Dylan and Sarie at Sylvia’s. Sylvia is Sarie’s dad’s girlfriend. John and Sylvia have been together for longer than I can remember and luckily I get to see them most times that I come home, even if it is for a quick hello. Sylvia has two pretty exceptional kids; Taylor and Jhani. They’re close in age to us and we call each other step siblings or cousins, but certainly more than friends. I was looking around the crowded dinner table- the heaping plates of food and generous glasses of wine, the hearty laughter and the random hugs, the catching up and the reminiscing. Here indeed was family, the familiar faces of people who watch you grow up and who never fail to show up when you need them. We have been joined together in the wake of various ended marriages. Ironic or poetic, I don’t quite know. But I know for sure that it’s a blessing I would never trade.

On Christmas Eve, Dylan, Silas and I went to San Francisco to have dinner with Taylor and his girlfriend Rebecca. Sarie was with her dad and his fam and my parents went to church. Rebecca was taking the red eye back east and brother Beist needed a ride home to Marin so D, S and I decided to trek into the city and meet them for a meal at the Tratt (the restaurant where Taylor works- www.trattoriacontadina.com). We all feasted on our glorious Italian dinners and laughed and chatted. Gina (the manager and dear friend) had her family there for dinner as well laughing and chatting and we all eavesdropped as her sister told her parents that she was pregnant. Kevin (bartender and dear friend) made me the strongest peach margarita in history and then came and sat with us at the table to laugh and chat. The restaurant was warm and cozy against the chilly, rainy night. I looked around the table at my grown up siblings, who have all weathered their own storms and yet still manage to shine with nothing but grace. We ended the night by stopping at the Christmas House in Marinwood. It was maybe 11:30pm, we were the only visitors in sight and we lasted about 2 minutes in the cold standing on the sidewalk. But when I realized we were all sharing a moment of happiness in the same neighborhood where everything had started falling apart, I could have stood there all night. We got home and the rest of the family was there. We stood in the kitchen and ate See’s chocolate and then all crawled into our respective beds. I was sleeping with Sarie and she stole all the covers but I really didn’t care.

Christmas morning went something like this: we woke up late. I walked downstairs to find my dad watching a fishing show with such delight, I couldn't help but sit down and join. My dad in a state of joy is pretty contagious. People went on walks and runs, showered and put their pjs back on (or maybe that was just me). It was still drizzling so we made a fire. The presents were scattered around the tree, mine were obvious since I’m really the worst wrapper this family has ever seen. (I might have actually wrapped a gift in an uncoiled wrapping paper core. Haha) We opened presents around noon, ate lunch/dinner (linner?) around 4. I looked around that table, the dining room table that I’ve eaten on most of my life, and marveled at the people I get to call family. Each of them brilliant and beautiful, each of them unique and original, each of them honest and real. A family of strength and courage. All of the pieces of our collective broken hearts welded together to equal= us.
We lit the candle for Brian in the center of the table. This is the void that will never be filled.
Went to the movies around 8 (Benjamin Button. Brad Pitt is criminally gorgeous. The movie was so so.) Uncle and cousins came over late into the evening. We all went back to bed and no one bothered to turn off the tree lights. Whatever could be done to prolong the day.

Another Christmas on the books. Over dinner we daydreamed about spending next year in a warm, perhaps tropical location- Hawaii!! Argentina!!! Oaxaca!! Silas brought out his globe and we traced our fingers over faraway lands that might possibly replace home for the holidays.
Tradition in the traditional sense no longer means the same thing to me. What makes me feel safe and comforted is being part of a family who truly knows who I am. It’s being part of a family that is big and extended and multi layered. It’s having parents who always welcome me home. It’s having siblings who are also my best friends. It’s having honesty and trust and respect between us all. And that’s something truly great.

in other news:
Happy New Year to all!!! The countdown to the record is really on now, Matt has been sending me the final mixes and they are AMAZE. Yay for 09!!!