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Christmas wish?
December 8, 2008

We got a call from my mother-in-law the Saturday after Thanksgiving, “I know you guys are busy. And I’ve been here only for three days. But can I trouble you to come and get me and dad tomorrow?”

My in-laws flew in from the east coast to visit their two sons in the west coast. The plan was for them to stay with us for a week before Thanksgiving and a week with their other son’s family for a week after Thanksgiving.

Their week with us was delightful, family beach trips, yoga classes, cacophonous singing sessions, nature walks, and three-generations running around in various playgrounds.

Then Thanksgiving day came. We drove an hour and a half north to my brother-in-law’s house. It was always a shocking experience to be there – new kitchen again, new bathroom again, bigger cars, bigger TVs, 9-hole course around the house.

This time around, there was a brand new outdoor fireplace, which was ablaze when we got there at noon. Sadly no one was around to feel the warmth. And it was still heating the unlimited quantity of chilly air when we drove away well into the night.

By now, we have come to realize that every time we go to my brother-in-law’s house, we come back needing a special shower to lose the smell of senseless profligacy. So we go as infrequently as a cordial but distant sibling relationship allows.

Still I was surprised at my mother-in-law’s plea for our help. She sounded exhausted, “I will explain later when you come tomorrow.” One more trip there? It would have exceeded our annual quota.

On the way back in the car, my MIL poured it all out, “I could not deal with it any more after Crista (her 12 year old grand daughter) called with a sales person from Nordstrom, asking for her mother’s approval for $800 on the credit card. I mean she’s 12 years old. What are they teaching her?” She was disgusted, “Have you ever seen her closet? You cannot fit one more piece of clothing. Nothing.”

I did however had the luck of seeing her bathroom counter – covered with make up bottles, tubes and jars. I had to remove a dozen of items from the sink to wash my hands.

Growing up on a farm in Ohio, my MIL is frugal in every way. Though she is quite well off, she rarely throws away a paper cup without exhausting its usage. By no means does she do this for the environment; it’s simply a lifelong habit enforced in an early age. No matter. Our end goal is the same.

In any case, seeing the material recklessness of her son’s family up close and personal almost hurt her in a visceral sort of way.

“Have you noticed that every room in the house has a large flat screen TV? All of them are on all day and all night? I have a headache from the constant noise in every corner of the house,” she continued, “Ken bragged that their utility bills ran a couple of thousand a month.”

“A couple of thousand!” she was clearly in disbelief.

We still had an hour before getting home.

“Remember the turkey we had on Thursday? We barely touched a quarter of it. Janet (her other daughter in law) threw it away after you left, because she said nobody would want the leftover meat.” She was mad now. Food touched a raw nerve, as she was born in the depression era and had images of hungry people burned in her memory.

I thought about the increasing number of people lining up outside food banks.

She wasn’t done, “Yesterday, a huge delivery truck came by. They got eight new dining room chairs. They have twelve right now. Janet did not have space for them, so they all went to the basement. She told me those chairs cost $1500 a piece.”

She shivered, “Do you think Janet is sick? She is on so many prescription drugs. And my son, what about him?”

Knowing they were rhetorical questions, I just sighed. She was so pained by the assault of excessiveness that she could not stay longer even just to be with her grandchildren.

“Perhaps the kids could’ve used your guidance,” I ventured to break her anger.

She waved her hand, “they are smart as hell. But unless there is a miracle, they are done for. I just wish the parents would spend more time with them, not more money on them.”

The mention of her grandchildren turned her fury into sadness.

A sense of helplessness and hopelessness hung in the car for the rest of the trip.

This was not what holidays were about.

This was not what family-get-togethers were about.

But I did not know what to say other than suggesting a long shower for her when we finally got home.

As I helped my kids write their cards to Santa this weekend, I wrote one too.

My wish for Christmas is for the have-nots to have a little bit more and for the have-too-muches to just stop accumulating. May we all seek joy within.

CindyW at Organicpicks

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