Christmas Tormenting

 

Oh those 1980's Christmas memories. You know? Visiting the family you rarely see like cousins, uncles, and aunts who put you on the spot with Christmas greetings. That awful uncomfortable feeling, you just want to run. 

Let's fast-forward a few decades, and those awful Christmas experiences were with my late wife's extended family - via her step dad. 

They'd come over once a year and Theresa's mother, Marion, would spend a lot of money on food for these awful people. The only visit less uncomfortable than being in a morgue. 

To Theresa's mothers credit, she would not skimp on quality and bought quality food from Sobey's back in the day. We'd help with the decorations, food layout, and of course, the clean-up. 

The comparison to the 1980's and 2000's Christmas was pretty well the same: People you haven't seen in a about a year come over. There's this uncomfortable silence as I search for topics to talk about. 

We settle on work and I migrate to the kitchen where Marion is having a smoke. She had this dry wit, and said the most unconventional things. "If the Lord spares us another day" she'd say wistfully. I agreed.  Theresa was more blunt. "Fuck those people" she'd say angrily. Want to see how angry she looks? Don't fuck with her. Seriously.

Theresa (left) and her mother Marion (right)

And when it was over, we'd all sigh in relief. Quite obviously, there was tension in the room when they visited. And it gets worse when you realize it's quite obvious these people would rather be somewhere else.

The best Christmas was with Theresa, quiet, and small. We never liked large crowds coming over.

Back in those 1990's days, the drinking would begin in the afternoon and work it's way into the evening. Without fail. When I moved out in 1993 it was a massive relief not to have to deal with the crazy drunken rage of my step father.

He was quite literally insane when he drank.

But that's enough for now.