musings on adulthood at christmas time

I am 26 years old.

Technically I know that I’m an adult but most of the time I don’t feel like one. And most of the time I’m okay with this.

I’m a fairly mature and responsible person and I’ve already managed to do and see more than some will in their entire lives. Richness and quality of life can take many forms.

The only thing is that it seems I keep waiting to cross certain events off my list before I’ll actually cross over that invisible threshold into adulthood. You know the typical “get a real career, have a boyfriend, get married, buy a house, have a family” sort of stuff. That’s when I’ll know I’m all grown up.

For the most part it doesn’t bother me that I haven’t checked off on these accomplishments just yet. I’m okay with it; I’m kinda forced to be okay with it.

But let’s be honest: I’m okay with it until other people remind me that I’m not quite there yet. And it didn’t bother me too much lately until this particular Christmas.

Two things happened:

I, along with my sister and brother-in-law, went to visit our nan a week or two ago. We were sitting in the living room that she had just decked out for Christmas. So freshly decorated that a few half-emptied boxes were still floating around. I picked up one of these little boxes and when I took off the cover to look inside there were a bunch of beautiful handmade ornaments crocheted by Nan herself. My sister started looking at them as well. As a lover of old and handmade things I told Nan how beautiful I thought they were. She said to me, “pass them over and I’ll give you some.”

She started picking some out and went to get a bag to put them in. When she came back over, with her package in hand, she handed them not to me, but to my sister without saying a word.

I don’t know if it was her hearing, not realizing who had actually spoken, and I couldn’t help but let myself feel hurt and confused. She had selected several different ornaments, doubled up on them, even. But as she gave them over in a single ziplock bag she was silent. She never explained that we were to share them between us. Elizabeth and I looked at each other and shrugged.  

I didn’t say anything to her about it, but inwardly I was a little angry. Am I not worthy enough to own a few of these delicate ornaments? I mean, I may not currently have a living room with my own 7ft tree to furnish, but one day I surely hope to, and for now I do happen to have a small one that I keep for myself. Maybe if I had spoken up and questioned it, I would have discovered they were for us both.

But sometimes I can be a bit stubborn. 

My next anecdote involves family as well. I have a lot of cousins. A lot. And it would be quite the task to buy presents for everyone. So the one thing we can count on every year is receiving a group photo from each family to stick on our fridge to display for the year. It’s fun to see how each little cousin has grown over the last twelve months, especially when they live so far away.

I’ve been fairly content with viewing the photos in my mother’s collection on our china cabinet. Its a lovely little display that we have in our kitchen. But something changed this year. My younger sister, who happened to get married in July of 2012 suddenly started getting those Christmas cards too. Somehow, at 23 years old, she is now invited into this tradition.

I brushed it off at first. I mean, where would I put them anyway?! I don’t even have a fridge! And of course I’m happy for my sister! She has her small little family now too to contribute. I just didn’t realize how much it deeply bothered me until one cousin (clearly my favourite!) was thoughtful enough to give me my very own card, and include my very own copy of her family picture. She’d had a baby girl this Fall—her first Christmas! I instantly burst into tears: inclusion. Wow, what a concept!

I’m sure its a completely innocent thing being overlooked like this. It’s not intentional, right? There’s just something awkward about being this age and not being married or anywhere close to it that the general population seems to quietly frown upon. They have this inadvertent way of making you feel like you’re missing out on something.

I try my hardest not to let it bother me because finding a hubby obviously isn’t something I can control. It’s not until you’re gone for awhile that you come home to the same question (on repeat): “Did you meet anyone while you were away?” “Was there someone special?” And when the answer continues to be, “No, not this time,” it’s easy to feel lame. Although, with  their reactions it’s like they are more disappointed than I am!

Not to mention that this Christmas season held the extravagant visitation of the engagement fairy, who sprinkled that magical, exciting, lifelong bling repeatedly all over my Facebook feed. “Rings, rings for everyone!” Seriously, I’ve never heard of so many Christmastime proposals in my life.

That said, I’d rather be single than be in a struggling, fruitless relationship. And quite frankly, I don’t want to compete with others for the engagement spotlight. When my turn comes its gonna be ALL ON ME!!

I suppose this post is less about when I will feel like an adult and more about when other people in my life will include me in that world despite my singleness. I mean, its one thing for me not to simply feel it, quite another for others not to treat me as an equally valued member as its married variety.

Getting married shouldn’t be the qualifier. 

a heritage

I saw her the day that she passed away. I had only been home for a week. I was sleepy after church and a big dinner but I went to the senior citizen's home with my parents, the Sunday afternoon ritual. I saw her sleeping on the bed, her breath quick and shallow but her face pleasant. It was always pleasant. Even though she may not have known who I was, she always had a big smile for me when I was home to visit. I touched her hand and gave her a kiss on the forehead just before we left, tears stinging my eyes. 

Mostly, her funeral was a beautiful celebration of her life. Tears of sadness and loss were present but with every word that was spoken, there was hope. It was clear that she was a loving, godly woman. In life, she always wore a smile on her face, and was always open to her family and friends. It’s true, I don’t ever remember her being upset.

My best memories of her are mainly from childhood, as Alzheimer’s took over in the last few years. 

Memories of summertime, when our family would unite around her birthday, going to the park and having a bbq. Memories of little visits to her house while walking home in July, just to drop in and say hi, Nan always offering a candy from her infamous candy dish. 

Memories of gatherings at Christmas, getting together as many of the family that was around, enjoying a delicious home cooked meal. Filling up the cozy living room, sitting wherever you could to watch her open up her many gifts around her little tree. 

What was evident, was her kindness and warmth, her love for and desire to be surrounded by family, even though words may have been few. That testimony rang true to her final breath. That’s incredibly inspiring to me.

If there was ever a lady that I should be proud of knowing, it is my nan. She left us with a legacy, a heritage and a hope for better things to come.

miami

I've made it safe and sound to Miami, friends. And like my first contract, I decided to take a little video of my hotel room. I'm such a nerd but it's okay. I was moved away from my friends that were in another hotel and brought over to this one [leaving out names on purpose til I'm outta here], so while that was a bit of a bummer, this definitely makes up for it! I've got it all to myself and it's like a mini apartment.

I'm already missing everyone at home, feeling anxious about returning to the ship, finding out my roommate and meeting all the newbies, but I'm doing well. I had a lot of good friend visits and chats this week that made me feel so much better about 2013. Now, I am excited about getting to see the Caribbean and Bahamas and getting to work at least once a week outside on their private island, Castaway Cay.



Gonna make it a good one! xo