emotions, holidays, memories

reflecting

etikser
An old photo, captured in the rain through wet glass.

I am,” I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
[Neil Diamond, 1971]

Reminiscing tonight.

These years, Thanksgiving is a big production. I’m thinking back, though, to when I was 25, many years ago, to the year I did Thanksgiving all by myself. I can’t imagine doing this now, but I cooked a frozen turkey TV dinner for myself. Swanson’s or whatever. I was okay with it, but I remember talking to my mom on the phone, as was our ritual for years mid-day on Thanksgiving, and how bad she felt about my being alone.

I was embarrassed to tell her I didn’t mind, that I was planning to enjoy my four-day weekend. I had off from work Thursday and Friday, and of course the rest of the weekend, which was a real treat. It was my first grown-up job, and I hated it. And for four days, there would be no job. No stress. No pressure. No emotional drama about who was there, and how we were getting along. Relationships had ended, as they do sometimes, and all I had to worry about was me. Just to put my frozen dinner in the oven, and to take the aluminum tray out when the timer buzzed. I was okay with being alone. It was just me that November, and I don’t know why, but I was totally cool with being alone. It was me and my apartment. My couch and my TV, and my stereo and albums. And whatever has happened in my life, I have good feelings about that one-bedroom apartment.

I don’t have memories about the Christmas that followed. I probably flew home. But I remember that I got a little three or four-foot artificial tree for myself, for my living room window, and I went to Macy’s, which was Hecht’s back then, and bought some crystal icicle ornaments for the tree. I also bought a gold-colored angel topper that I still have today. The icicle ornaments all fell either that Christmas or the next, and broke, all of them, sadly too fragile for realistic use. My gold angel lost her wings. How or when, I don’t recall. But my angel has survived, minus her wings, and I would indeed feel a sense of great loss if something happened to her. One Christmas I couldn’t find her, and I missed her terribly. I’m sure she represents to me something I can’t explain about myself.

I am … I cried.
I am … said I.

It feels good  to recall these formative times,
That are part of life,
When we’re alone with ourselves,
And we hold together.
We survive.

___________________________

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They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

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11 thoughts on “reflecting”

  1. A lovely post, thank you for sharing your feelings. I am divorced and really enjoy living by myself at almost 65 years of age. Both of my parents are passed now and the holidays are just not the same.

    It’s like the glue that held the family close together is gone. My family will have separate Thanksgivings this year as well as Christmas. I will not be with family for either occasion this year so alone again it is.

    Even my birthday is by myself but this is how life has unfolded…

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    1. Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I understand how you feel about losing your parents, as mine passed a number of years ago, and I still have similar feelings. And break-ups happen…just a part of life. I’d still like to have one more Christmas with everyone crowded in my parents’ kitchen. But I have lots of good memories, and I’m grateful for that. I hope you find peace and joy in the quiet of your holidays. And there’s something to be said for the fact you enjoy living by yourself. As you say, life does unfold

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  3. yes, I’ve long learnt to appreciate my alone time — though sometimes I do feel lonely — and I love that Neil Diamond song though I don’t really understand a word. Your post though brought meaning to it —

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  5. I enjoyed this post. Reflections of earlier times and how we learn from them. I have an angel almost exactly like that. I am thinking of Neil Diamond as we went and saw the new movie, Song Sung Blue, yesterday, on Christmas day about the true story of a couple who sand Neil Diamond songs. What an icon.

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