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Re: Whatever, Let's Have A Goddamn Blog Thread, But Try And Keep It Reasonable, pt B

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redglasscurls:
I don't really have a religious background so I may not be the best person to answer this, but I don't know that there's all that much religious tradition surrounding the modern gift-giving practice. Yeah three kings and all, but you're not leaving out boxes of grass as gifts for the camels and you're not getting gold and myrrh. As a kid you're told that a jolly fat man brings you presents for being good. Later, that your parents buy you nifty stuff this time of year. Nothing terrribly christian about all that.

Alex C:
It really depends on the family. Gift giving was definitely secondary to the religious aspect, at least on my step father's side. We'd go to my grandparent's place and there'd be prayers and talk about generosity and the 3 kings etc, etc before passing stuff around. There was really never any talk of Santa when I was growing up, honestly. I'm not sure I ever really believed in him, actually. He certainly wasn't ever anything important, anyway, just sort of the dude on the coke cans. Then again, I was a notoriously contrary child, so I could definitely see why my parents would just kind of give up on getting me all excited about it.

Patrick:
Dear blog thread,

Midnight Mass tonight, Christmas Eve and all that. I'm not religious or anything but I really wish I could go to Mass more often. This is the church I grew up in, and Christmas is my least favorite holiday because I get to thinking about people I miss, especially my grandpa. He passed away in '05 and I don't think I'll go a single Christmas with a dry eye because I miss him so badly. I would give both my hands and never play guitar again if it meant I could have Grandpa back. I can't do any of that, though, so all I can settle for is the comfort of going to midnight Mass at the same church I've gone to since I was 4.

Hope everybody else's holidays are well!

Love,
Me!

tania:
i love when various members of my family yell at each other and make each other cry and storm out of the house and drink too much and talk behind each others' backs and blame each other for all problems, ever, and i also wonder how it is they have not yet at this point clued in that maybe this is the reason i only visit them about three times a year cos they still complain about that constantly, to the point of redundancy, can't you see that i maybe don't want to be insane and dysfunctional like you.

this has been the dumbest christmas yet. merry christmas. i'm going to bed.

ruyi:
Because of my po-po's condition, we have two caretakers living with us, a husband and wife. They alternate spending days and nights with her. My mama tells me, the wife has become a very good Christian now. She reads the bible everyday, and she says her eyes has gotten clearer and clearer.

As a part of the ministry for undocumented workers from China, my mama's church had her baptized. In the car on the way home she asked me, were you this excited on the day of your baptism? Were you as happy as I am?

Her husband looked at the small gifts she received, some cards, some flowers. He took the ribbon off a box, slid the sleeve off. It's very pretty. Look at the design cut into this paper. G-O-D-I-V-A, ah. What is this?

The next day I walked to the field past the freeway. The trails leading up the small mountains are blocked because of the fires that passed through not too long ago, but I twist through the wires anyway. My mama leaves me a message, asks me where are you, why didn't you answer your phone? Can you go online to order prints of the photos from the baptism, I will pick them up on my way home.

Today, for Christmas Eve, I played songs they sing at church on the piano for the wife. She's trying to learn them, but it's hard because she can't read music. I just play slowly, humming the melody to help her.

She gives me two dollars when I finish. This is for the photos, she says. Oh, you really don't have to bother. Besides, my mama paid for them, I protest. Don't worry, if I give it to you, it is the same thing.

My po-po weighs less than a hundred pounds now. When the huband takes her to the commode he holds her under her armpits as she shuffles. She alternates between restless and listless. Today she kept pushing her way out of the blankets, struggling to climb out of bed. Bring me the socks, she called, again and again. Where are the socks? When I bring them over she tells me to wear them and I do. These might be too red a color to wear normally, but at home they will keep your feet warm, she said.

For Christmas, my mama gave me CDs of Zhou Xuan's music. It was really a neat idea on her part, as she knew I had tried to learn some of her songs.

One CD wouldn't open. The second featured another woman singing Zhou Xuan's songs. The third featured the original crackly recording of Zhou Xuan's singing set to newly mixed synths.

I guess it's just as well, since the DVD I gave her couldn't play.

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