The Visible Woman...December 24, 2003

I was reading my two-year-old Christmas Eve entry and I suddenly realized...at that point my mother would not live for another Christmas.

Of course, I knew 2001 was her last Christmas. But reading about how she struggled to enjoy the season in spite of her pain kind of blind-sided me. I'd been looking at old entries...where she was in the hospital with mysterious pain but wanting to go to parties. But the 2001 Christmas Eve entry where she is sitting there in a festive sweater and in obvious pain, that hit me. I knew something was wrong but little did I know what was coming. Whoa. For some reason, that brought it home.

Still not feeling much in the spirit. FFP did the errands (picking up the pie and turkey as well as some liver function pills for the dog) while singing snippets of Robert Earl Keen's Merry Christmas from the Family.

When FFP finds out that no workmen are coming and suggests we go wandering together, I jump on it. Grab some fun. You never know what's coming! Eat a hamburger...who knows if there is a tomorrow?

Maybe a Christmas Eve open house and making a spinach casserole later tonight will put me in the spirit. Mom always made that casserole. I mentioned the dish to one of her dearest friends in Mesquite when we visited over Thanksgiving and she said "is that your mother's recipe?" Actually, I discovered it and gave my mom a copy of the book with the recipe. She made it famous, though. No doubt about it.

The people having the open house have the place decorated to the nines. They have wine and beer and mixed drinks, tamales and other Mexican-type food. And these amazing decorated cookies that taste wonderful. I eat too much. Their tree reaches to their very tall ceiling. There is a huge arrangement of chunky red candles on a table. Stockings hang on the mantle. I mean to take a pictures but I never take a single one. Hence you are left with thrift store shots for the seasonal decoration here. Somehow that is appropriate to my mood.

My mom would have enjoyed the party and the decoration, I think.

I still don't feel festive, though. I don't think I'll wake up tomorrow and notice a holiday difference. Except for getting together and eating turkey and seeing that lots of places are closed...it will just be another day. I don't even feel sad about this, really. Just not festive.

	I suddenly realize I was reading my two-year-old Christmas Eve entry and I suddenly realized...at that point my mother would not live for another Christmas. Of course, I knew 2001 was her last Christmas. But reading about how she struggled to enjoy the season in spite of her pain kind of blind-sided me. I'd been looking at old entries...where she was in the hospital with mysterious pain but wanting to go to parties. But the 2001 Christmas Eve entry where she is sitting there in a festive sweater and in obvious pain, that hit me. I knew something was wrong but little did I know what was coming. Whoa. For some reason, that brought it home. Still not feeling much in the spirit. FFP did the errands (picking up the pie and turkey as well as some liver function pills for the dog) while singing snippets of Robert Earl Keen's Merry Christmas from the Family. When FFP finds out that no workmen are coming and suggests we go wandering together, I jump on it. Grab some fun. You never know what's coming! Eat a hamburger...who knows if there is a tomorrow? Maybe a Christmas Eve open house and making a spinach casserole later tonight will put me in the spirit. Mom always made that casserole. I mentioned the dish to one of her dearest friends in Mesquite when we visited over Thanksgiving and she said "is that your mother's recipe?" Actually, I discovered it and gave my mom a copy of the book with the recipe. She made it famous, though. No doubt about it. The people having the open house have the place decorated to the nines. They have wine and beer and mixed drinks, tamales and other Mexican-type food. And these amazing decorated cookies that taste wonderful. I eat too much. Their tree reaches to their very tall ceiling. There is a huge arrangement of chunky red candles on a table. Stockings hang on the mantle. I mean to take a pictures but I never take a single one. Hence you are left with thrift store shots for the seasonal decoration here. Somehow that is appropriate to my mood. My mom would have enjoyed the party and the decoration, I think. I still don't feel festive, though. I don't think I'll wake up tomorrow and notice a holiday difference. Except for getting together and eating turkey and seeing that lots of places are closed...it will just be another day. I don't even feel sad about this, really. Just not festive.
old ornaments for sale in Uncommon Objects
JUST TYPING My mother loved the holidays. Decorating. Presents. Big family meals with things made from scratch. Caroling and clothes decorated with trees and Santas. I don't want to do it. I wish she were here to do it herself. With Santa socks, getting some cranberry juice and suggesting a game or puzzle.
		Food Diary. *breakfast* banana a tiny bit of chicken ounce of goat cheese lunch [Dirty Martin's Burgers] cheeseburger with mustard, chopped onions and lettuce half an order of onion rings limeade (fresh-squeezed) *snacks* some salt and vinegar potato chips a little tofu dip and tortilla chips a clementine glass or two of white wine a beer (Heinken) tamale four small tortillas with beef, guacamole, salsa, cheese a little queso and chips three or four iced sugar cookies eight or ten fruit pectin candies *dinner* ate party food...see snacks Today I - let caution go to the winds and ate what I pleased...and this is different how than usual?
		Time flies.... We stumble out of bed near eight o'clock. Not unusual for me (my excuse is that FFP dozes in his chair at night while I read). The phone is ringing. It's my dad confirming that water aerobics is cancelled today. We bang around, telling ourselves we must pick up a pie and the smoked turkey and that the dog needs pills for her liver disease (only two day's does left). We have coffee and FFP goes to the club, late as it is. He knows it is Christmas Eve and that other people won't work that much. I wait around...thinking the insulation/sheetrock guys may show up. FFP gets the food and the dog's pills. I go to the club. Home again, FFP says he's found out no workmen are coming and we decide to have some time to ourselves. The book store on campus, Dirty's, Cheapo Disks and South Congress. It was fun. Then we read and vegetate a little before going to the Christmas Eve open house we have been invited to attend. We get there early and stay a little less than two hours. We see lots of people we know.

		Reading. Dawn of D-Day: There Men Were There 6 June 1944 by David Howarth. A little bit of the Michelin Green Guide to Washington, D.C. Old newspapers and even some recent ones. I'm conquering the newspapers. Really.
		nada
		Exercise forty-five minutes on the recumbent bike ab and lower back exercises twenty minutes on the treadmill
	. .	I feel good when I get up today. I realize that I was less than 100% energy-wise for the last week. I still sound a little sick but I'm not. Going out with FFP to wander around stores and stuff does wonders for my mood.
	It's a Tangled Web we weave...these days of our lives.	One year ago "There was a time when those rolls would have been homemade and a time before that when the butter would have been made by my mother, too. I don't really fell nostalgic, though. Just a little lost." Two years ago "My mom doesn't feel well but wants to be there. She isn't taking Darvocet because it puts her out. She's still confused about what is or might be wrong with her. It's becoming more obvious to me that I need to find the time to visit doctors with her and stuff."