You call THAT a holiday?!

Okay. So when the family left earlier than anticipated last Thanksgiving and Christmas, I attributed it to the recent loss of Brian and figured that the first couple of holidays without him would be sad. It is difficult to adjust to those times, especially since they bring us together as a family. I didn't criticize or judge, but understood, despite the fact that I was an in-law because Brian was a part of our annual celebrations and I missed him, too.

Our family holidays brought us together to celebrate, eat good food, enjoy each other's company. But lately, they seem like nothing more than obligations we are expected to meet for the minimum amount of time required before calling it a day.

We aren't a large crowd. Including the boys, G and me, we have 11 people total. This cozy number doesn't require a whole lot of effort in the food preparations, but leaves enough for leftovers. The food of choice for Easter is ham, which we cooked and enjoyed along with various other dishes brought by our guests, who arrived at 11 AM.

Just after 2 PM, our guests were leaving. We ate, did the traditional egg hunt, although broke tradition this year by having it indoors due to the snow that had fallen 4 days earlier. Eat and run. Happy Easter, thanks for having us, and so long.

I can't help but feel a little jilted. We rarely have reason to gather but for the main holidays. Even birthday parties have become past memories because I don't want people to feel obligated to attend any of our sons' special days because somehow, I feel they are being inconvenienced in doing so.

Holidays have become boring for me. I miss my family, tradition, the past.

I miss the crowd of my aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents.

I miss going to my grandparents', where all the holidays were held, and making Jell-O and pudding and putting them into those neat little Tupperware dessert dishes because they were as important as the main meal itself.

I miss my grandfather blessing us with the holy water he had blessed from the church.

I miss the comraderie, the games we played. I miss the football games we played in the yards between their house and ours.

I miss the rare occasions when my grandfather would set up the old movie projecter and we'd watch brief images from the years and holidays when we were too young to remember them.

I miss the constant comings and goings of family members through the breezeway of my grandparents' home.

I miss helping my grandmother iron my grandfather's handkerchiefs in the sunny back laundry room that coupled as his office.

I miss the parades and other silly games my cousins and I played downstairs in their finished basement.

I miss it all.

Usually, I am always a little blue due to the fact that my sisters and mom are all scattered across the map and not close enough to reunite with them during the holidays now. We are grown, have families of our own, but I would have never imagined our children wouldn't be making the same cherished memories playing together like we did as children. There are thirteen children between us, and none see his or her cousins for any holiday. Flying 6 people from here to where they are is expensive, to say the least. But I was always grateful that G's family lives nearby and we could celebrate with them.

Now I wonder if we should even put a price on the worth of being with your family. It is depressing to look forward to a holiday where you know your guests no longer find enjoyable and if given the opportunity, would just assume skip it all together and stay home.

I keep hearing the chorus of the Meatloaf song: "It was long ago and it was far away, and it was so much better than it is today."

If I can't be with my family for either Thanksgiving or Easter, perhaps we should just skip it. We'll just have our own little holiday with the 6 of us, and it wouldn't be anything special and more or less like any other day. Either that, or I will start rejoining my extended family for holidays again. I know I will be welcomed and won't want to rush out immediately after the meal, and I don't see them enough anyway. And then G's family can stay home, just like they want.