It IS A Wonderful Life

Survived the big Day-After-Christmas family get-together pretty well, all things considered. The only ugly spill was when 75-year-old Aunt Ellie, the Altzheimer's patient, took a bad step and stumbled/tumbled/slid down the 4 steps between the dining room and the living room. No injuries, just an embarrassing moment...glad she wasn't wearing a dress, or it could've gotten really ugly really quickly.

All the food we cooked turned out delicious, and everyone had plenty to eat. We had lots of good conversation, but I kinda feel for my brother-in-law, Les, who had his afternoon/evening monopolized by Unk, the retired asphalt plant specialist and civil engineer from the Illinois State Highway Department. If Les retains even 10% of what Unk told him, he'll be qualified to work in an asphalt plant for the rest of his natural life. I guess I can't blame Unk, though. After all, with Aunt Ellie' Altzheimer's, sometimes he has to tell her what day it is, several times a day, several days a week...so yesterday was probably the longest adult conversation Unk has had in the past four months. Kinda makes me understand where my brother--the one we nicknamed "Earoff"--gets it, if longwindedness has a hereditary component to it.

Mamaw pretty much sat in one spot--but then, it's not like you're gonna get up and play Twister with your great-great-grandkids when you're 98, y'know--and took in a lot of the conversation. She asked for, and got, current addresses for both of my kids, because she insists on sending out those birthday cards, just like her dad did until he was well into his 90's as well. We had to help her negotiate the two steps at the stoop, but she's doing pretty well with steadying herself with a cane...something she's only need for the past year or so.

Maw was...well, she was pretty much Maw. She went on and on about how good the coffee was, and I really hated to tell her it was from one of those gift sets that we'd never used until this week. [I believe it was called "Branson Blend," for those who, like Maw, simply "must" know.] Maw apologized for not having any presents--of course, she never shops for anything but her groceries, so we really weren't expecting anything but her company--and then she handed me a DVD of the local Saddle Club's 100-Mile Trail Ride, which includes photos from the early years, from back when Papaw and some other club members started the trail ride back in 1963. Maw didn't realize it, but that one gift nearly brought a tear to my eye.

Brother-in-law Les was as helpful as possible, as he and sister-in-law Rhonda brought a table and some folding chairs. Along with Mamaw's card table that Unk brought,and the extra chairs that my daughter and her fiance brought, it worked out perfectly.

So now after the food's been eaten and the gifts have been exchanged, everyone's gone home and all the leftovers--the ones not sent home with others--are put away. [Thank the Lord for disposable plates and cups and plastic forks.] The wife is taking a short nap to recharge her batteries. And I'm sitting here with a short glass of Wild Turkey American Honey on the rocks, with a Diet Pepsi for a chaser if I need it [so, far, I haven't needed it]. I'm realizing that, with all its trials and tribulations, real or imagined, it truly IS a dadgum wonderful life.

So here's to you, Jimmy Stewart...a toast to George Bailey and what he taught me about philosophy, life, and the relationship between the two. If we ever meet down at Martini's Bar, the first one's on me.