There’s a little Griswold in everybody’s Christmas

Nostalgia and the holiday season go hand-in-hand. Through rose-tinted glasses we harken to Christmases past and imagine the warmth and fellowship of getting together with friends and family.
Out of the corner of the mind’s eye, though, is Uncle Mark, who finds a way to ruin Christmas every year.
Or Grandpa Jim, who passes gas at the dinner table and loudly blames it on the child sitting next to him.
Or the auntie who’s hard of hearing and shouts embarrassing things that should have been whispered because she thinks everyone else is half-deaf too.
Family is a cast of characters we are born into and have no choice in selecting, in most cases.
In looking forward to gathering together with this bunch of weirdos, it’s important to remember that every family has them and they are important threads in the tapestry of family history.
In my own family, my grandfather and his brother maintained a level of sibling rivalry throughout their lives which was quietly fostered by their mother.
They were too… polite, I guess, to fight openly about whom their mother loved more, so they let the jealousy manifest itself in holiday celebrations.
Uncle Bill made a huge deal one year out of the ribbons on his gifts.
Clearly, he pointed out, the bows on his brother Don’s presents were new and full, while his own presents had the smashed, flattened, recycled bows from previous years. (My great-grandma never threw anything away). And clearly that meant she preferred one son over the other.
There was shouting, there was door-slamming. Tears were probably shed.
These men were in their 50s at the time.
Their mother, my great-grandma Mable, was a card, and the true centerpiece of our family get-togethers. You didn’t want to stand next to her for family photos because she would goose you when it was time to say cheese. One year, Uncle Bill got her a “Mable’s Whorehouse” coffee mug. I was probably 8 years old. I had to ask why it was funny.
She was famous for gifting underwear to the boyfriends or husbands of her granddaughters.
From her perspective, it was a practical gift-giving solution, considering she didn’t necessarily know these young men or their tastes that well.
From our perspective, it was an opportunity to watch a stranger squirm as he opened a pack of brightly-colored bikini-style underwear.
Who wears those? Well, now you do, mister, and we all know about it.
The in-laws. These poor souls joined your crazy family on purpose, and they’re kind enough to come to your Christmas get-togethers without calling for the men with white coats and butterfly nets.
They also hold the rare ability to innocently remark about how unfortunate it is, for example, that your aunt Judy married such a jerk — something everyone knows and no one wants to talk about — and go around singing under their breath “Judy and the beast” while everyone wants to laugh and no one is allowed to.
The holidays just wouldn’t be the same without some kind of shenanigans.
It’s no fun remembering the year everyone simply opened their presents and didn’t bicker, and the tree remained upright and decorated, and the food was perfect.
We like to share war stories of Christmases past, and as such, we should appreciate the value of those characters who make the stories worth listening to.
Here’s hoping this year it’s not you who has to sit next to Grandpa Jim at dinner.