Gingerbread houses

Tonight, I finally had a traditional Christmas experience. Traditional in so many ways-let me explain. Each year, we make gingerbread houses. This is really important to me, ever since I heard the story of Hansel and Gretel. I was so enchanted by the thought of a whole house made of goodies that you could eat, it didn't even occur to me that poor little Hansel and Gretel were going to be dinner for the witch. Of course I was very young, but I do remember thinking that I would love to have been able to find such a house. It probably wouldn't have worked out well for me, as I was a well-fed child, something the witch was hoping for. But, I digress. I have made gingerbread houses with my children and grandchildren since the children were small. Each year, I am determined that the gingerbread house of the year will be one to rival the efforts of Martha Stewart, and each year I am just happy if it stays together without falling down. They are so pretty on the box! Actually, I only started buying gingerbread house kits in the last few years. Before that, I always made them from scratch, baking the house parts and making the icing myself. The candy added up to some expense, and we always had so much left over, most of it covered with icing and stuck together. So, a kit is the way to go, as it is complete and usually less than ten dollars. Tonight, Eli and Jacob, Little Joe and friends down the street came to make houses. Here comes the tradition. Eli and Jacobs mama, Sissy, was late, the friends down the street were early, and Little Joe was in the arms of his daddy-who of course didn't know where to start. His mama, Becky got there later, and when I let her know that I depended on her to be on time, remarked that she didn't know why I was steamed up, after all, Joe was there. I had more kids than houses, and not enough grown-ups to start the project. Soon, icing was being spurted on sides of houses, and before the houses were strong enough to stand, candy was being placed on the roofs. The houses fell, except the one at the end which stood beautifully, especially since a two year old was working on it with his dad! Before I knew it, as tradition would have it, the table was a pile of candy pieces, icing drippings and semi-broken gingerbread house pieces. Again, as tradition would have it, in spite of the chaos, soon the little houses began to stand alone, and support the load of candies "cemented" by the white icing. Finally, the houses were finished, each one unique and special. They looked nothing like the picture on the box, but that's okay, as tradition would have it, they are lovely to me. Nothing like the witches' house, but special all the same. I also have a Nativity Scene,made of some kind of plaster and painted by my grandkids when they were little. It is hard to tell if the cow is a cow, or the sheep is a sheep, even which one is Mary and which one Joseph. But I love it so much, that it takes center stage on the mantel each year. Why do I love it so much? Because the grandkids are so tickled each year when I put it out.It means so much that I appreciate their efforts. And I do. So, on with the "unique" gingerbread village, what a great tradition! Now, if I can just get the cookies done, I will feel complete. Oh, and the fudge, the dipped pretzels, the brownies, and on and on.

In the midst of all this Christmas revelry, Martin sits in his recliner. Today, he did not move from his chair except to go to the bathroom, until after 6pm, when he went to take Jaybird somewhere. He slept most of the day, and to give him credit, he is still suffering with his cold. But I hate to see him like this. I believe he is very depressed over the situation of imminent termination at work, (because he is too ill to do his job, even though he got ill at work) the fear of an impending heart attack at any moment, feelings of hurt because after 20 years, he could be treated that way at work, and living daily with a regimen of medications and ongoing nebulizing treatments just so that he can breathe. Having a cold doesn't help either. I love him so much, and wish I could lift the emotional pain from him. I get frustrated too, because I am spoiled, and not used to doing everything at home myself. I wanted to throw cold water on him at one point today, just to see him react, but of course I wouldn't do that. All of the years of learning and experience living with him need to come to fore right now. I must be cheerful, patient, kind, loving, and understanding. I have to remember that his life has been forever changed, and he is trapped in circumstances that he never thought to face. So what if he didn't make gingerbread houses with us? To be truthful, he never did before either. Why is it such a big deal now? I guess it is because I am so afraid that this may be the last time he can make gingerbread houses with us. Hopefully he will be around so that I can resent him for not joining in next year and many years to come. That will be the best tradition of all!