Today began an annual series of events spaced six days apart that always walked me through each December. My oldest cousin's birthday is December 7th. Six days later was my parent's anniversary. In another six days followed my sister's birthday (now it's also one of our grandson's). Of course, the 25th was the best day of the year, and six days after that was New Year's Eve.
In memory, there feels like an undertone of anxiety around it all. I don't know if it was because of my dad's and uncle's alcoholism, or the effort to make sure the birthdays didn't get lost in the shuffle, perhaps the never-quite-articulated stress of the adults trying to make sure things were ready for Christmas, or some combination of it all. But in retrospect, even though this was the time I so anticipated, the memory feels a little tense.
Hmmm . . .
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