My Very Special Christmas

On Alaska Air Flight #7 from Newark Liberty Airport back home to Seattle, I shared my row with a lovely family of five. Mother, father, two girls and a little boy. Daddy and the boy were next to me, and while the elder slept, the younger tossed and turned and hacked and wheezed, occasionally turning to say, "Daddy, I don't feel real good." I had just spent five days with my family in the bitter cold of New York City, happily entertaining my germ-ridden nephew and his newborn sister. I managed to stay healthy and sane. I felt fine and brought back plenty of pictures to prove it (pics posted here). But I would be undone by a six hour trip home in a jet propelled incubator, trapped by the window by not one, but two members of the Brady Bunch... one sister (we'll call her "Jan") swapped places with little Bobby for a while, and she was no picture of health herself. By the time we landed at SeaTac, I felt dirty and scratchy and my throat was dry. I begged my boyfriend to rush us home -- and not to kiss me! -- so I could shower off as much of the Brady Sickness residue as possible.

A week later, I am downing little cups of Robitussin and cursing the Brady's. They ruined and otherwise perfect Christmas in New York. We even had snow! Not exactly on Christmas Day, but closer to a White Christmas as I've had in over two decades. My father taught my nephew how to throw snowballs while my sister-in-law looked on in horror. The entire family bundled up for a trip to the Botanical Gardens to see Thomas the Train (LIVE! for heaven's sake!), reminiscing along the way about years gone by, when Christmas was warmer and our fingers didn't feel like they were going to freeze off. There were fewer presents, mostly because we all came long distances to see each other, but also because we didn't want TSA agents confiscating the knife sets, automatic pistols and bondage gear we would have tried to smuggle through security. Instead, we exchanged scented soaps and picture frames. All things we could add to our homes without adding clutter and remember fondly, "Hm, oh, yeah - Abi gave me these. Sweet."

When it comes down to it, the highlights of the trip were all about chilling out with the family -- not the diseased and dysfunctional Brady's on Flight #7, but my own growing family. I held my neice Annie for the first time. She's only two weeks old, but we got along really well. My two-year-old nephew Cal held my hand while we walked across the street to the Children's Museum, which means he trusted me. At the top of the list was lunch at an honest-to-goodness New York diner. Gut busting deli sandwiches, real kosher pickles and a neurotic mensch of a waiter who went on about his poor cats. For dessert, I ordered a Black and White cookie to go. I shared a piece with Cal, who had never had one before. We both like the chocolate side the best. That was fun.