Christmas is Over

            There is always a sadness in the air when the sun sets on Christmas Day.  I remember one year I was in 5th grade.  My beloved Ganny had died the year before and Papa was in Houston with his mistress, whom he had kept hidden for all those years before.  He came to New Orleans and brought some presents for Kenny and me.  His presents were usually stuff he






had rounded up from old houses and junk shops and reworked.  This year it was radio units for both of us.  I was in my bed, my parents came in to tuck me in and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer was playing on that radio.  My dad wanted to turn it off, but my mother said, let it finish.  Christmas is over when you turn it off.


I have never forgotten that moment.  And now, Christmas is over.  And I always feel sad.
We were at Carrie's house for lunch/dinner with Andrew's parents Bobby and Fayne, and his brother and wife Michael and Amanda.  No Tristan this year, so his present went home with Amanda. 
Carrie's house was beautifully decorated. The table was elegant. Everything was wonderful. She has such a way with putting things together, her house looks like a picture in a magazine.  I guess that is what she is good at doing, such a creative and artistic mind. 
She had Brussels sprouts, collard greens cooked in bourbon, au gratin potatoes, green bean casserole, bow tie broccoli salad.  Fayne brought spiral ham, spaghetti and cheese and sweets.  I supplied some chocolate chip cookies, pumpkin pie and biscotti.  It was a fine feast.
After dinner we gathered and distributed presents.  Andrew opened his BBQ grill (we all pitched in and bought him a really nice one), Carrie opened pearls from Andrew and a Kitchenaid Mixer from me. 

Our present from Carrie was interesting.  She told me when I opened it I was going to feel violated.  I was totally intrigued at that statement.  I opened the wrapping to find the oil painting of the plantation that hangs in my dining room.  She had "stolen" it from the house and we had no clue!  Taped to the frame was a voucher for a weekend in that very same plantation!

And now Christmas is over.  The sun has set on the day.  And I am sad.  The worst part is my brother has not even called or sent a Christmas card or contacted me about our mother.  I wonder where his kharma is sitting tonight.

Merry Christmas until next year, glen