2020

It took me four days to get any thoughts in writing. To put it bluntly, the holidays sucked this year.

On December 28 I should have been eating more cream-cheese based dips, opening presents and roaring with laughter over board games with my Jepsen kin for Jepsen Christmas.  Aunt B was making Nana's killer cheesecake with the sour cream layer, and my darling, picture-perfect nieces would be singing Happy Birthday to Jesus.  Instead, I zipped and ripped through the perforated tabs of Kleenex boxes.

I am sad to miss my Jepsen peeps this year.  I love our Jepsen traditions.  Bill even found a Sasso wine to add to the table this year.  Rosemary and Bill have been digging deep and organizing the family tree on Bill's mom's side of the family of late, so it was super cool for Bill to find a wine in her maiden name.

So instead of lasagna and Nana's cheesecake and fine red wine, I dined on blue corn chips with tuna salad and flat ginger ale.  With a chaser of NyQuil in hopes that I could tame this cough and sleep through the night.

As I anticipated my Christmas vacation, I set lofty plans that included productive lesson planning, reading for pleasure, hitting the Warhol exhibit at The Art Institute, and seeing a movie or two.  But instead, I was grossly sick, missing my cousin Sean, and binge-watching Grace & Frankie.

Most of my readers tell me that I should focus my entire blog on humor.   My uncle Joe inquired about my blog at Ellie's wedding, and I felt like I needed to be prolific with my answer.  After all, he is a retired lawyer-turned-master oil painter, and all I could say was, "I'm trying to be funny and be a better writer."  He nodded with his calm, assuring smile and said nothing.  He just let me know he understood.  There are some aunts and uncles whom I don't small-talk with simply because I don't see them often, but no matter how many states or miles lie between us we have a bond.  We have to cut to the chase . . . get caught up with each others' lives and what is important, usually within the span of 4 hours.

It's hard to be funny right now.  The tragedy of losing my cousin this holiday penetrated every cell in my body, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  Now begins the grief process.    Writing his eulogy was a huge step.  My aunt Nancy and cousin Annie have already helped me by bestowing that honor upon me.  So typical!  Helping others before they help themselves!

So where do I go from here?  How do I help them back?

My uncle Quinn's homily on Christmas Eve reminded us that family can help us absorb anything.  But when is calling or reaching out too much?  I often err by giving people their space, thinking I am doing the right thing, not realizing they needed me.  What is a healthy balance?

Prayer is always the answer.  And we all pray in our own way.  I am private with my prayer.

All of my stories of Sean are funny.  Or fun.  I know I will speak of him forever.  Perhaps that is what I can do to help.   Perhaps that will be my prayer.

Now it's New Year's Eve.  I feel like I should put on a glittery turtleneck, eat shrimp and create a vision board, yet when I envision these activities all I see is a Saturday Night Live skit.

I'm gonna keep it real and stay in my flannel pajama bottoms, eat the last two lonely Christmas cookies and create a fire.  Ring a ding ding 2020.