The Good Old Holidays...

...can be now and then

Growing up back in Wisconsin and as a wild Radish, it was an adventure no matter what time of the year it was, but Christmas Day was always a whopper of an event. My dad had three brothers and two sisters, and there was a mess of cousins between them. Family gatherings were something else, especially at Christmas.

Actually, the Radish family didn’t need much of an excuse to gather. We had parties for just about everything, and if we missed each other, someone made up something like, “Hey, Grandpa didn’t stop at the bowling alley after work one day this week, so let’s have a party!” No matter what we celebrated, it was a loud, drink-filled who-ha that made everyone who looked at us jealous.

Christmas was the scene-stealer, though. It was mandatory to attend and help host the gathering every single Christmas for decades and decades. The party started out in Grandpa’s basement, and then, as everyone kept having babies, it finally moved to the church hall. We laughed, sang, drank, kids ran wild in the gym, and sometimes a tipsy Santa would show up and pass out candy.

Grandpa Radish was a tall, thin, squeeze box-playing, brandy-loving pattern maker who spoke German and loved to make all of his grandchildren sit in a corner as he told stories. I know this sounds like a scene from a Disney movie, and it kind of was for a long time. Well, except for the swearing, drinking, bullshit, and children drinking out of the cocktail glasses when no one was looking.

Then grandpa died, uncles and aunties died, my daddy died, and people like me lived thousands of miles away and could not always come home. The parties slowed down and then stopped. Now, they happen when those of us who are left gather for a funeral. But listen, because we are Radishes, there is drinking, dancing, singing, and laughs at those events too.

It’s okay for things to change because there isn’t a hell of a lot we can do about it. My own babies live hundreds and hundreds of miles away from me, and yes, I know this is my fault. They are entitled to make their own memories and come when they can. My daughter and son-in-law will be here for a few days this year, so lucky me.

Some of you might be alone during the holidays or grieving or thinking you are missing out if the days are going to be quiet. I suggest just sitting in the quiet and pulling up a few memories, filling your glass or cup, watching White Christmas (My favorite holiday movie), and breathing in the joy of knowing you are still sitting and standing.

I have grown to love the quiet before, during, and after the holidays following a lifetime of work, worry, public speaking, more worry, deadlines, expectations, exhaustion, lots of worries, and the load of my own goals and aspirations that always kept me moving fast.

Crank up some holiday jazz, make some ice cubes, and fa la la la la the hell out of every moment, you beautiful Broads!

And now, as we did in the old days of journalism…###…this one is over.