The only glitch in my brilliant plan is that we parked on the wrong side of the mall. By the time we exited the wing of the mall devoted to Santa's festivities, I was ready to remove my beloved shimmery grey wedges adorned with large gems on the toes. On second though . . . safer to risk a raw blister than walk barefoot through the mall (no need for diseases and such on Christmas).
Returning to the car, the three of us were ready for some coffee. Luckily, Oregon is littered with drive-thru coffee stands and we were quickly on our way to Keizer with caffeine in our veins.
Because of the unpredicted traffic delay on Thanksgiving, we were prepared to allow for extra travel time on the afternoon of Christmas Eve. No traffic. No rain. We arrived almost an hour early. Our hosts were so gracious to offer snacks and a movie to pass the time while they got ready and finished the last of the dinner preparations.
Christmas Eve dinner has been hosted in the same room for generations. My grandparents had a home on a farm boasting orchards full of filberts and onions. They raised my father and his siblings, Denise and Terry, in that house. Since then, it has been transformed into a modern delicacy if a home. But honestly, I would prefer the wavy glass in its windows, the orange curtains, rough decorations and truly raw sense of how it was when I was younger.
I hadn't been to the place in over a decade. The best guess we all had was my age was 12 when I last visited. It is almost surreal that now, twelve years later, I now live on the same side of the country as my family and have the privilege to partake in their traditions . . . it's as if I never left.
Another Christmas Eve tradition is the White Elephant gift exchange, though not the usually dorky and undesirable gifts most think of. It was truly a fun half-hour of unwrapping and stealing of actually decent items. When my turn came around, I stole a fifth of Vodka and four mixers (highly uncharacteristic of my family) and was quite content . . . until my sister's turn. She had the nerve to steal it from ME!! She should have known that she would be sharing :)
After the evening came to a conclusion, we headed back to my Grandparents' house to stay in the guest bedroom. Dima was reading my new book (yeah yeah, I bought Twilight on eBay out of curiousity) and I was restless, so I hunted the closets and drawers for alternate material to occupy my time until drifting off to sleep.
Much to my surprise, the first album I extracted from the nightstand was my parents' wedding album. It almost gave me chills. But it was so beautiful to see what my mother and what my father looked like when they were my age. And they really did look like they were in love, as far as the photos would tell me. More albums followed. My great-grandparents' album was extremely fascinating, and not in an amusing way . . . it was addicting. I wanted to stare at each old photo like it would be erased forever if I didn't memorize every detail. The third album offered photos of my dad when he was a youngster. He and his siblings were like little cherubs. Fluffy faced and perfect. A moment in time, probably when he was 8 years old, but still beautiful.
Dima was still reading my copy of Twilight and I was still restless, so I turned out the lights and forced myself to sleep. Before I realized my eyes had opened, I was reading page after page. I am not a reader. Never even considered picking up a book for any reason other than to throw it at someone in the past several years. But I decided to read this one. I had seen the movie, as well as the second film, but only because my friend from high school played a role in the series that I took notice. The movies were entertaining and I wanted to know the real story, by reading the books.
I spent most of the morning curled up on my grandparents' couch rudely dedicated to the characters in the book. Lunch was scheduled for noon or shortly thereafter, so we headed over to Denise's house.
The rest will be finished later. I'm tired and it's late.
