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What a wonderful Christmas!
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 642683" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>Without shame. </p><p></p><p>I am savoring the taste of that<em>.</em></p><p></p><p>The taste of I am, of we are, "enough."</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>My parents refused to host the holidays, did not send birthday cards, did not pay for weddings or visit the hospital when babies were born. I think I posted before about the shame of that sort of thing happening where husband's family could see and question it. </p><p></p><p>How extraordinary, when I think of it in this light!</p><p></p><p>Christmas was a painful sort of joke in our family. My father would do things like hang Santa in effigy on the front door instead of placing a wreath. He thought that was hilarious.</p><p></p><p>So it is probably very true that laughter, in my family of origin, was a cutting and lonely thing. I had lost touch with those old feelings of rejection, but they are a glittering piece of the pain that surrounds the holidays for me now. </p><p></p><p>And that was the loneliness, and those were the hurts I was soothing, on those holidays when we did have our children and grands and husband's extended family with us.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that something.</p><p></p><p>It certainly does suck to have come out of an abusive family.</p><p></p><p>At the heart of it, one more time, is that old fear that I have become my mother. husband and I actually fight about that. I will have anyone, any neighbor who is alone, any person without family, in for dinner with us on whatever holiday it is. My Italian husband feels holidays are for family. If you don't have family with you, then you stay home and call them on the phone.</p><p></p><p>I swear, that is what we do.</p><p></p><p>It doesn't work well for my family of origin, of course. Calling on the holidays, I mean. But husband has enough relatives (who are usually all together somewhere) that we are able to celebrate whatever it is with whoever is there over the phone.</p><p></p><p>The key topic of conversation?</p><p></p><p>Food! How was the sauce. Who fried the shrimp. Did so and so bring those wreath cookies. husband's mom is in a nursing home this year. The family are making the traditional Feast of the Seven Fishes <em>and bringing it in to share with her there.</em></p><p></p><p>Isn't that a nice thing?</p><p></p><p>Shame and rejection, creating and celebrating jealousy between the grown sibs ~ these are the forms abuse took in my family of origin once the children had grown. Now adults with their own children and with the families of their mates to celebrate with, we had become too independent to hurt in any other way.</p><p></p><p><em>I never understood that of course my parents knew what they were doing.</em></p><p></p><p>Of the grown sibs, only my sister resents and refuses to take part in, the work and expense that make the Christmas celebration so special for everyone. The rest of us love it. Love the food, love the decorations and presents <em>and will host any and everyone who finds himself alone on the holiday.</em></p><p></p><p>My sister will gladly partake of anyone else's Christmas. But as I posted on another thread, her children will have been taught to sing, loudly and repeatedly, a Christmas (or 4th of July, if it is summer) song.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>This is lovely imagery. I wish that for you, too.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p><p></p><p>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 642683, member: 17461"] Without shame. I am savoring the taste of that[I].[/I] The taste of I am, of we are, "enough." :O) My parents refused to host the holidays, did not send birthday cards, did not pay for weddings or visit the hospital when babies were born. I think I posted before about the shame of that sort of thing happening where husband's family could see and question it. How extraordinary, when I think of it in this light! Christmas was a painful sort of joke in our family. My father would do things like hang Santa in effigy on the front door instead of placing a wreath. He thought that was hilarious. So it is probably very true that laughter, in my family of origin, was a cutting and lonely thing. I had lost touch with those old feelings of rejection, but they are a glittering piece of the pain that surrounds the holidays for me now. And that was the loneliness, and those were the hurts I was soothing, on those holidays when we did have our children and grands and husband's extended family with us. Isn't that something. It certainly does suck to have come out of an abusive family. At the heart of it, one more time, is that old fear that I have become my mother. husband and I actually fight about that. I will have anyone, any neighbor who is alone, any person without family, in for dinner with us on whatever holiday it is. My Italian husband feels holidays are for family. If you don't have family with you, then you stay home and call them on the phone. I swear, that is what we do. It doesn't work well for my family of origin, of course. Calling on the holidays, I mean. But husband has enough relatives (who are usually all together somewhere) that we are able to celebrate whatever it is with whoever is there over the phone. The key topic of conversation? Food! How was the sauce. Who fried the shrimp. Did so and so bring those wreath cookies. husband's mom is in a nursing home this year. The family are making the traditional Feast of the Seven Fishes [I]and bringing it in to share with her there.[/I] Isn't that a nice thing? Shame and rejection, creating and celebrating jealousy between the grown sibs ~ these are the forms abuse took in my family of origin once the children had grown. Now adults with their own children and with the families of their mates to celebrate with, we had become too independent to hurt in any other way. [I]I never understood that of course my parents knew what they were doing.[/I] Of the grown sibs, only my sister resents and refuses to take part in, the work and expense that make the Christmas celebration so special for everyone. The rest of us love it. Love the food, love the decorations and presents [I]and will host any and everyone who finds himself alone on the holiday.[/I] My sister will gladly partake of anyone else's Christmas. But as I posted on another thread, her children will have been taught to sing, loudly and repeatedly, a Christmas (or 4th of July, if it is summer) song. This is lovely imagery. I wish that for you, too. Cedar . [/QUOTE]
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