And so this is Christmas, another year come and gone
Yesterday, we had Christmas at the LaLa, not what we usually do, but since I did find a solution to the tree dilemma (two LED branches of cobalt blue lights placed in the two flower pots), and I did find a black Santa ornament, and Aunt Jerri took the form of old St. Nick – well, it was Christmas.
The morning began with Tin running into the living room to discover the drum set that Aunt Jerri had bought him:
He said thanks by promptly playing Jingle Bells much to everyone’s astonishment. Let’s just say there were copious videos made of this and the next performance – which I will post later since Tatjana’s luggage is still missing from her trip home and with it her camera cord. But here is Aunt Jerri later playing back the videos she took for Tin:
And of course, there was beauty all around us, eggnog spiked with rum, tortilla española made from Isolina’s recipe, a pound of bacon fried crispy, Irish soda bread from the nun and good cheer (especially after a little morning eggnog):
Then there were visitors, Evan among them bringing Tin a book that is an interpretation of A Wonderful Life:
The nun brought a gift of remembrance – Jews believe that if one person has too much, one person is lacking, so a reminder to always be in a state of grace, in state of giving back, and to never allow the scales to tilt too far in either direction.
Then there was the Jewish tradition of Chinese food with friends uptown, but I think we might skip this one in the future as I’m really not the biggest fan of the American interpretation of Chinese food to begin with and with all the delicious Vietnamese our city has to offer, we might opt for that next year.
Later, as the day was unwinding, and Tin was tucked into bed, we gathered around the TV fire and counted our blessings and took a moment to breathe, when suddenly down the chimney came two couples struggling to hang on to their relationships – one has decided to divorce and the other are hoping to stave off an avalanche, but sitting on the front steps at 11 pm and watching the mist hang over the bayou on a crisp, coldish Christmas night, and listening to sadness, fear, and uncertainty color words that hung in the balance – I felt the best I could do was to sympathize but then come inside and get down on my knees in thanks for the family who lives in the home we call LaLa:
Even give thanks for a couple of the more challenged family members:
