Damn holidays making me crazy already.

You know, I love my family… but sometimes they make me a little bit crazy which is why I don’t write about them here very often. Because it’s never a good idea to chronicle what irks you about a group of people in a venue where they might find it. I certainly would hate to find a list of what irks them about me posted on the Internet (and I guarantee you, I am a very vexsome family member at times; this is not one-sided dysfunction by any means).

So I’m staring down the holidays and I just talked to my mom on the phone. I’m a bit worried that she’s sliding back down the depression trail just in time for xmas… and she told me that my brother’s common-law wife (of eight years) has just moved out and left him…. plus one of my crazier aunts is coming to stay with us for the duration of the holiday period…. not to mention that my brother’s friend who lives in my parents’ garage (some of you might remember him as the paramedic who rescued me on the juan de fuca marine trail) has also split with his girlfriend over distance issues…. and my mother has additionally moved an old friend into her camper van behind the garage because he couldn’t afford to pay his rent (it’s just temporary).

Keeping track? Don’t worrry, it’s all a little dogpatchy up there on the hill… but we come by it honestly (refer to the song “Mostly Crazy” from Massive Folk Fist to the Man if you really want to know more).

I’m afraid my brother’s split will bring my mother’s focus on her need for grandchildren back to me. More than once recently I have been subjected to the “are you ever going to move back victoria and have a baby” conversation. This used to provoke a pretty profound guilt in me – but these days it just makes me feel bad for my mom. I know it’s not my responsibility to live my life according her needs, but I also understand that she feels that grandchildren would complete her in a way nothing else has. Persistent, she is always searching for that answer, that completion as though it will come from outside of her.

Upshot? I wish I could run away for xmas rather than go home. Not because I don’t love them all, but because I do and there is just so much sadness in my family at the best of times. Oddly this makes us all pretty compassionate to outsiders but not very much so to each other. Typical I suppose. It’s hard to be sympathetic when you’ve been hearing the same stories your whole life – and your father’s favourite lines really were “whoever said life was fair?” and “I’ll give you something to cry about”. (Who needs originality when it comes to preparing your kids for a hard world?)

Now on a brighter note – my brother writes me a few minutes ago to say that he’s looking forward to hanging out in Van more now that his relationship is kaput and he’s coming to my solstice party on the 21st.

It should be an interesting holiday season.