I LOVE this. What I wouldn’t give for a 1969 Econoline Van. Oh, no it’s going to go on my list of things I want that I will never get (or even try to get) like a 1972 Chevy El Camino, or a 1969 Chevy Malibu softtop (a car I actually owned believe it or not and got FOR FREE).
We were very poor when I was a child and God bless my mother but she went to TOWN on Christmas. Not with food, not so much with presents, but with Christmas decorations. It was like an obsession. Our house was amazing. She also had a terrible childhood. I think her idea of making childhood not terrible was to make things look a certain way. I love her for that. It just gets me every time I think about how hard she tried. She was also the chain smoking (and excessive alcohol imbibing) kind of mother but her heart is very good and pure.
But, for various reasons, I have horrible memories of Christmas. “You ruined Christmas!” LOL, every Christmas something terrible would happen. Ha ha ha! Christmas is THERE to be ruined. I didn’t even realize people genuinely enjoyed it or why until much later in adulthood.
Even though I get it now, I slightly hate Christmas and barely celebrate and my kids do not care at ALL. They don’t even notice or realize how deficient is their Christmas. I think their lives are better overall that I suck in certain ways. Maybe not all ways but some.
My father, born 1916 in North Central OH, became a plasterer after high school. In '48 we moved to Dallas TX on a doctor's advice, my mom suffering from allergies.
There he sold insurance and continued, on returning to OH in '52, as an underwriter, and part time farmer until retirement in 81. Mom stayed home til my brother's and I were at least in grade school.
Oh, I loved this. Your mother and my mother would have had some tactics to share with each other, both on the perfectionism but also the dramatics and hard times. And here we are writing it all down! Have a good one, Cabot!
Your world was very different from mine, and thank you for this glimpse of it - she sounds like a fascinating human being, like a James Leo Herlihy character, actually (this is a compliment), complex and yearning 🙏🏼 💔 🎄
As someone who grew up in a hoarder household and an authoritarian, angry mother, but one whose creativity was also constantly looking for outlets, this resonated in many ways I didn't expect. And it was so fun to read. I will make sure to spread "You ruined Christmas" far and wide!
As the great Webb Wilder once said, "Remember, there's REAL music out there, and REAL people are making it. There's always an Econoline rolling towards a gig somewheres."
Having just buried my own mother last week, I see your fucked-up childhood and raise you a brown glass bottle of the Edmund Fitzgerald Porter (12 fluid ounces). Hang in there.
I LOVE this. What I wouldn’t give for a 1969 Econoline Van. Oh, no it’s going to go on my list of things I want that I will never get (or even try to get) like a 1972 Chevy El Camino, or a 1969 Chevy Malibu softtop (a car I actually owned believe it or not and got FOR FREE).
We were very poor when I was a child and God bless my mother but she went to TOWN on Christmas. Not with food, not so much with presents, but with Christmas decorations. It was like an obsession. Our house was amazing. She also had a terrible childhood. I think her idea of making childhood not terrible was to make things look a certain way. I love her for that. It just gets me every time I think about how hard she tried. She was also the chain smoking (and excessive alcohol imbibing) kind of mother but her heart is very good and pure.
But, for various reasons, I have horrible memories of Christmas. “You ruined Christmas!” LOL, every Christmas something terrible would happen. Ha ha ha! Christmas is THERE to be ruined. I didn’t even realize people genuinely enjoyed it or why until much later in adulthood.
Even though I get it now, I slightly hate Christmas and barely celebrate and my kids do not care at ALL. They don’t even notice or realize how deficient is their Christmas. I think their lives are better overall that I suck in certain ways. Maybe not all ways but some.
My father, born 1916 in North Central OH, became a plasterer after high school. In '48 we moved to Dallas TX on a doctor's advice, my mom suffering from allergies.
There he sold insurance and continued, on returning to OH in '52, as an underwriter, and part time farmer until retirement in 81. Mom stayed home til my brother's and I were at least in grade school.
Thanks for your story.
The Father, The Child and the Man
https://youtu.be/aeN3vPYGh6E?si=Xq0_WXYOwDlBtXnK
My father he's a good man
And he's raised his family right
I can hear his voice in mine
When I wish my girl goodnight
I know he's had his problems
Lord, I still have a few
But I've realized he's just a man
And that's all I am too
Though he's reached his autumn years
The oak's still standing tall
And I will be there with him
As the leaves begin to fall
Chorus
It seems a few short years ago
I was just a kid
And I paid great attention
To the things my father did
Now I have a family of my own
And I'm mindful how the twig is bent
The tree is surely grown
So I try with all my heart to do
The best job that I can
With the father, child and the man
My daughter has her mother's charm
A blessing in disguise
Cause old men, kids and animals
Are drawn to her like flies
She's young and smart and stubborn
Living fancy free
But there's a tougher side to teenage life
Not too hard to see
And we both have faced those conflicts
And the stark uncertainty
Between heaven and the heartbreak
And responsibility
Chorus
Yes it seems a few short years ago
I was just a boy
But that boy he's still a part of me
Playing with my toys
And this father loves his daughter
I wish her all the best
And I'll be her dad for comfort
And I'll be her dad for rest
This old man's got a ton of chores
Choices that he's made
Promises he'd best fulfill
Bills that must be paid
Chorus
It seems a few short years ago
I was just a kid
And I paid great attention
To the things my father did
Now I have a family of my own
And I'm mindful how the twig is bent
The tree is surely grown
So I try with all my heart to do
The best job that I can
With the father, child and the man
Merry Christmas. Hope I didn't ruin it.
Be well.
Oh, I loved this. Your mother and my mother would have had some tactics to share with each other, both on the perfectionism but also the dramatics and hard times. And here we are writing it all down! Have a good one, Cabot!
But DID the lawn recover? ;) I remember that winter - in Bay Area, many magnificent bougainvilleas died due to unprecedented sustained cold. :(
Your world was very different from mine, and thank you for this glimpse of it - she sounds like a fascinating human being, like a James Leo Herlihy character, actually (this is a compliment), complex and yearning 🙏🏼 💔 🎄
Truth!! I was one of the ravenous blonde squirrel-dwarves. :)
As someone who grew up in a hoarder household and an authoritarian, angry mother, but one whose creativity was also constantly looking for outlets, this resonated in many ways I didn't expect. And it was so fun to read. I will make sure to spread "You ruined Christmas" far and wide!
This is magic
As the great Webb Wilder once said, "Remember, there's REAL music out there, and REAL people are making it. There's always an Econoline rolling towards a gig somewheres."
Having just buried my own mother last week, I see your fucked-up childhood and raise you a brown glass bottle of the Edmund Fitzgerald Porter (12 fluid ounces). Hang in there.
Get in the van! Sorry for your loss.