Christmas time is here

Woke up this morning knowing that it was time for my annual Christmas post where I talk about my dad and mourn his passing. Today is the 10th anniversary of that very difficult day; the day when my dad died of a heart attack a couple of hours before midnight on Christmas Eve.

I rarely talk about the moments of exactly 10 years ago, the right now of 10 years ago -- a few minutes before 10 AM. That morning I woke up full of anticipation. My brothers were all to be here, my older brother David and his wife Janice were arriving that very day. Norman was going to be bringing them to the island. My mom and brother Dwight had arrived the night before. I was just so full of joy.

Dad had been with us a couple of weeks already so when he got up, he remembered to move the Magi a little closer to baby Jesus. The three wise men always wander around the living room making their way to baby Jesus on Epiphany -- the 12th day of Christmas. I usually wait for the kids to go to bed and then move them for the next day to be found but that plan very often goes wrong. I'm far from perfect and even back then, my mind was soft and forgetful. So when I got up and the kids were milling about, Dad started humming the song "We Three Kings," and I panicked. But then I saw that he had moved them for me.

For a few hours that day, everything was exactly perfect. The whole family was there. We were all in one space, one house, under one roof. It was loud and noisy -- we were happy.

I didn't know that it would be the last time.

I think that's why it is hard to come up to this day. It doesn't mean that the days I have now are not good or not happy. But I don't get to have them with my dad, that's all. And that Christmas Eve 10 years ago was the last time I could have them with him.

Somedays I scour my faulty memory for more of that day. And I remember checking out, being distracted, just not paying attention. Of times when I was lost in my own tasks and didn't revel in those last moments with him. But I think even in that, it was a time for him to see that I was grown, involved in my own stuff, handling things like a grown up. My dad had done his job, even with the youngest of his children.

I miss you, Daddy. Always will.

My Statuses (or is it Statii)

I've noticed lately that a lot of my friends have statuses that read like angry old people yelling at kids to keep of their lawn. I suspect that this is how my generation is turning into the old people -- the transition much more visible now. I mean, if I look at the statuses of my "friends" who are in their 20's, there is the expected drama. The jokes, the lyrics from popular songs, and of course relationship angst. I think they're more apt to share stuff closer to themselves emotionally than their older counterparts.

In the 30 something crowd, there are a lot of pictures; predictably from weddings, baby showers and the like. I don't see a lot of text but then again, I don't have too many friends in that age range. I am getting old.

But my peers in their fabulous 40's -- we are a grumpy lot of people. It's kind of like we're just trying on the phrase, "kids these days..." or "what's wrong with people?"  I've tried to make my Facebook as nonbitchy as possible and yet, I still have my moments. Recent posts complain about the weather, actually use the words "bah humbug," and I talk about a bad hair day.

But I think the deal is that we -- all of Facebook people -- we all need to lighten up. This is the water cooler where we get to see old friends and read something funny that they might have written. It is the place where you get the brag about your kids or share pictures. And really, that's what we should be using it for. I don't want to hear you complain about your life or your perceived slights because if you've got computer access and internets, odds are you're doing well enough.

How great is it that I've got a place like my blog where I can complain about FB because I don't think we should be complaining on FB?