January 2018 Thoughts...

I am so happy it is January, and the drama is over.  It seems every year I plan for a benign, pretty little holiday full of simple pleasures, and lately every year there is drama.

Traditionally our Christmas season officially does not start till well after our Thanksgiving ends.  Usually we get a tree the first or second week of December, crack open some classic Christmas movies, bake dozens of cookies, and enjoy Alice's birthday before Christmas, and mine after.  Our tree this year was tiny and beautiful.  I baked the most delicious and very edible gingerbread house.  Sparkly rock candy and necco wafers and gumdrops were bought to decorate with.  A fabulously delicious sugar glue was developed...I had planned to blog all about my decorations this year, but life got in the way.  Next year, for sure.

This year was quite different, and I fully intend to fill everyone in soon on all the drama, once I know it is truly over...

I count my blessings these days, and despite waking up to an empty house, and a missing daughter this year, I survived.

Christmas did not include Alice this year.  For the first time since her birth, I did not see her for the holiday, nor did I hear from her at all.  Life and holidays have always been just the two of us.  We have always had our well established traditions, and spending the holiday together was a given.  All I had was a vague idea that she decided to have a long overdue rebellion, which frankly made no sense, but she has a boyfriend now, and things to catch up on.  Her passport was gone, and there was no trail of breadcrumbs...

I was one of those sad stories you read about.  One of those pathetic people who has no one.  No family to break bread with, no presents to open, no feast to enjoy.   I was a little match girl who spent Christmas Eve sitting in numb disbelief staring at the tree.  Alone.  Wondering where in the world my only child was, knowing she didn't want to be with me.  Wondering why.  Wondering if I should walk to a church, but too tear stained to venture out.

Soooo frankly it was at least a valid reason to wear my marabou trimmed satin mules, and silk dressing gown, wallowing and drinking vodka martinis, and smoking Marlboro lights.

Chase was the Christmas Angel I so desperately needed, and at midnight I turned off the tree lights, blew out the candles, and tucked us in.  My red wool blanket was a nice warm nest for us, all trimmed in satin.  Sleep was completely useless for me, and my eyes opened before dawn.  Nauseated.  Alone.

My Christmas Day road trip started in shaky disbelief at 8 a.m. in a very very quiet Brooklyn, and finished in record time in cold frosty Pennsylvania, with my dog, my man, and a wonderfully funny visit from my brother as soon as we arrived.  On Christmas morning, the I-78 was almost completely empty, and the open road was my church...the snowy mountains my diamond dusted cathedral.  There was nothing but time and silence and tunnel after tunnel in which to think and calm myself and decompress.  I thought a lot about my late parents, and the Christmases past I had with them, and that I used to be a part of a family, and bowed my head with emotion and respect when we passed my fathers favorite roadside steakhouse.  He would rhapsodize about this place, and I remembered cold, snowy road trips with him when I was just a teenager, on this very route, and how once we stopped at this diner called Ed's, and ordered steak with sautéed mushrooms, and baked potatoes, and how warm and cozy that was, and I started to feel strength and solidarity with the memory of my parents and those long ago road trips, and the quiet realization that time passes without our consent, and chapters can sometimes close and begin without a sound.

Chase was healthy and frisky and adorable, and as soon as we arrived and opened up the freezing cold house, we put up strings of Christmas twinkle lights brought upstairs from the frozen basement, built a roaring fire, and tucked into some delicious peking duck and sichuan beef take out in my cozy little enchanted Christmas house.  Sniffles or not, it was ok.  All I have there is a radio, and so tinny sounding Christmas music on college radio was our only entertainment.  Not the way I had envisioned the first ever Christmas apart from Alice, nor the first spent with my man, but despite the lump in my throat, I survived.  I guess I was lucky to have had my crew of guys there with me up on that snowy hill.

So...

I suppose I need to throw out the pastel candy canes now, and the holly, as well as the dried up paperwhites on the windowsill...

Hoping to start back on the Stairmaster tomorrow...

Got a beautiful new dress to fit into...

Planning to throw some really festive dinner parties this winter...

Realizing I am more like my mother than I previously acknowledged...

Chase at 12 and a half is doing well, and enjoying his squeaky squirrel from Santa...

Seriously tempted to book a flight to London...

Ready to knock down walls and renovate my Pennsylvania cottage.  It needs a more open bedroom, and it will be a fun winter weekend project...

Loving the Bowood wallpaper there...

Going to reupholster a slipper chair in Colefax and Fowler's Fuchsia...

Living in the moment.  No worry about the future, not dwelling on the past.

A new chapter has begun...

I am grateful...

Loved...

Loving all the cold and snow here in NYC.  Happy New Year to all!  XXOO