Triggers

My Dad and I headed to NY to spend Christmas with my sister and her family. Our hotel room was on the third floor and when we got into the elevator the floor was carpeted... and it immediately reminded me of the elevator in the hotel that was attached to the hospital where my mom had her surgeries... where my dad, sister, and I spent much time.... The elevator had a carpeted floor and placed upon it each day was a smaller rug that had the day of the week written on it... which somehow helped us keep our sanity and helped us keep track of the days... people who have spent any amount of time in a hospital or staying close to someone who was in the hospital, know how crazy the time gets... hard to keep track of... So when I see carpeted elevators I think of the days of the week carpet...and of the hotel attached to the hospital... and how miserable we all were...

While in NY for Christmas...I mentioned it to my dad in one of our elevator rides and he had forgotten the day of the week rugs... and I regretted reminding him of it... it seemed to change his demeanor somehow... we try hard to be okay, to have moved on.. but there are triggers... things that jump out at us and remind us of all that was endured... After reminding Dad of the days of the week carpets we started using the stairs at the hotel instead of the elevator... just one of those things.

It was good to be together for Christmas, good to be with my sister and her family. The excitement that the kids had for Christmas eve and Christmas day was fun... they are good kids... all three of them are similar in many ways, yet have their distinct personalities... the oldest is very focused... loves to read and can spend hours making a project including an origami creation he spent hours working on, building, taking apart, and rebuilding... without frustration... I would have thrown it in the trash! The middle nephew is a free spirit, goes wherever the wind takes him and sometimes the wind blows pretty strongly, as he changes direction often and quickly. He is a very smart kid to whom m any things come easy...yet he struggles to keep himself in control at every turn... and the youngest... he's kind of been the one most difficult to describe... he's the youngest and plays that card at times, wants so badly to be like his older brothers yet loves to be coddled and cuddled... he is also smart, and has a sweetness and innocence underneath his pouty exterior... I adore them all.

My mom would have loved seeing the boys and how they have all changed. She would have been right in the mix with us all, making candy, decorating cookies, and playing games...

And we started a new tradition... or perhaps it will become a tradition... it was actually one of my favorite parts of the trip... apparently there is a tradition in certain parts of upstate NY and other places too... where a pink peppermint pig is passed around a table... each person at the table says something they are thankful for or something prosperous that has happened to them in the last year and then hits the pig with a hammer... this smashes the pig into pieces and the pieces are shared... with the hopes that the good fortune will continue... Dad's friend/girlfriend sent it with Dad for us all to share. It was a nice addition to our time together.