Chapter 13 - NO MORE CHRISTMAS AT MOM’S
As summer approached, Mom began talking about holidays.
Carefully.
“I know it’s early.”
I waited.
“I was thinking about Christmas.”
Emily looked at me.
Mom continued.
“I am not asking you to come here.”
Good start.
“I was thinking maybe we could rent a neutral place.”
Emily answered.
“No.”
Mom nodded immediately.
“Okay.”
I looked at Emily after the call.
“Too soon?”
“No.”
“Then why no?”
She was quiet.
“Because I don’t ever want Christmas to become an obligation again.”
That made sense.
For six years, every holiday centered on Mom’s table.
Mom’s traditions.
Mom’s expectations.
Vanessa’s comments.
Our endurance.
Emily continued.
“I want Lily to wake up in her own house.”
“Wear pajamas.”
“Burn cinnamon rolls.”
“Watch movies.”
“No performance.”
I smiled.
“Done.”
So we created our own Christmas.
Months before it arrived.
No travel.
No formal dinner.
No seating chart.
Mom was invited for Christmas Eve dessert only.
One hour.
Vanessa was not invited.
Mark and Sophie came Christmas morning.
Vanessa declined.
That was her choice.
Mom did not pressure us.
That was change.
Then something unexpected happened.
She sold the formal dining table.
The one where she slapped Emily.
I heard from Mark.
“Why?”
I asked her later.
Mom answered.
“I hated looking at it.”
I stayed quiet.
“Also, it seated fourteen people and I don’t even like fourteen people.”
I laughed.
She did too.
May you like
Not everything needed symbolism.
Sometimes furniture is just too large.
