new traditions

i am finished. last night around 12:30 am i wrapped the last present that i could, as some gifts were stashed at remote locations. shopping was wrapped up on friday, with only a small trip to the grocery store needed today.

the car needs gas but otherwise, we are all systems go for christmas.

our filet o'dinner starts at 4:30 today, requiring us to leave chez mc-clot-sky around 3pm to get there in time to have a drink before dinner. and possible clear the dining room table off enough to eat.

no one knows exactly what we are walking into today. it's been months since i set foot in my mother-in-law's house. normally my sister-in-law has in the inside scoop on what abnormalities exist there on a more intimate level than i could due to the fact that her belief in family is stronger than mine. i have often said where she reaches for hugs, i reach for drugs. this is not an overexaggeration.

but since her falling from grace as the golden daughter-in-law status (she being the one to bear grandchildren), my m-i-l has been left alone to dwell in her own fantasy world. it's not that we haven't seen her, we have seen her at least once a month since the summer ended, but we have not set foot in her house and all of us, are totally unprepared for what we may find there.

last year, i cleaned her house two days before christmas. it wasn't for her mind you, it was for my father-in-law, sick with cancer who after battling infection after infection from chemo, did not need to be living in a house so filled with germs. before you chastise me for pushing cleanliness over caring for an ill spouse, let me say this, her house can only be described as a frat house but without the beer. there is still a profound stickiness that pervades everything only it is not from beer, but from other fluids spilt and left behind to fester. she does not believe in trashcans, so trash overflows from brown paper bags strewn on the kitchen floor. the bathrooms reek of mildew and mustiness, born of the stained showerstall and nasty toilet. towels used and unused mingled together to lend even further proof of how little care was put into where they were living. this is where my husband and his brothers grew up, it was always like this. my father-in-law's illness was not the cause.

still, the house reeked of desolation, of illness and mold. it did not inspire a return to health and the living, in fact, the house, i feared hampered his health and that of those around him, with windows shut tightly to not let in any more grief and despair. of course, these same shut windows never let any of the desolation or illness out, either.

pierogie-making-day (PMD) was uneventful this year. held at my s-i-l's house which did not need to be cleaned beforehand, supplies were ready at the fingertips, there were none of the raised voices and flaring tempers that can only signal the agitation between a father and son. instead, our day was one of simple conversations and laughter in between stuffing 600 pillows of dough. my m-i-l quietly stood at the stove, speaking only when spoken to and even then, soliciting one word answers to our attempts at conversation.

"this year will be hard for her," my goddess girls and flugilicious tell me. common sense tells me that 7 months after losing your husband is not a long enough time to grieve the loss of your partner of 35 years.

in some ways, none of us are ready for today and what this means -- with its new challenges and new traditions that begin with it -- as mam dresses as santa for the first time for our young niece and nephew. my f-i-l would have been proud.