My...Interesting Christmas/RIP

Hey, its been about a week, huh? So let me fill in my faithful, nonexistant fans in on what's been up with me this Christmas.
So first. We did make it to my grandparent's house. It's about an 8-hour drive, but the roads weren't too bad. My grandmother called us every hour on our cell phone (it was a bit freakish) to ask how the roads were and whatnot. Then she asked us to stop in Lewiston and try to get some lutefisk, which, if I didn't explain before, is a gross fish that is force fed to my mother and I on Christmas eve. So she asked us to do that and we went to the store and...THEY DIDN'T HAVE ANY! Now maybe that doesn't sound strange to you, but in the 18 (almost 19) years I've been alive, there has never not been lutefisk on the table on Christmas eve, and while I've managed to get out of eating it since my sophomore year in highschool, it was very weird. Not to say I wasn't happy about it, its gross fish and I wasn't going to eat it or like the smell of it, but all the same.

Then. The snow. Never ever has there been enough snow that my mother and I couldn't get up the hill to the house when we got in. Bucky, this guy who works with my grandfather, had to take us up in his truck. We actually got snowed in Christmas eve and we couldn't go to church. Once again, a first. Except for like...the year I was born and the doctor told my mom she couldn't go over the mountains with me (she was still pregnant). Plus, my uncle Wayne and Aunt Joan couldn't join us this year. Originally, Wayne's daughter and grandaughter were going to come up from Texas to spend Christmas with them, but then because of the snow they couldn't come. Like I said, I can't remember the last time I wasn't with my Aunt Joan at Christmas.

I made out well this year. I got two beautiful piano books (despite the fact that I play terribly). I got tons of pj's which is what I tend to ask for when I can't think of anything that I want. Some money. Mamma Mia, the movie. A faux fur throw that looks wonderfully warm (I haven't really wrapped up in it yet due to the fact that I haven't showered since...I can't remember.) A sketchbook, some folders.

Here comes the RIP part. I told you that my uncle Wayne has liver cancer; which is hard to find and diagnose, harder to treat, and like all cancer, impossible to cure. Last Saturday night, he died in his sleep, completely unrelated to the cancer, he had a brain anyurism. Which is kind of okay with me, because liver cancer would be a painful way to die and my Aunt Joan already had to watch one husband die of cancer and it would suck for her to have to go through it again. See, the thing is that we thought we'd have more time. He wasn't feeling great during Thanksgiving and the day we left for home, they went to the hospital to get him looked at and found he had cancer. He was supposed to start treatment (though the doctors weren't hopeful about it) on Monday (this last Monday.) So our Christmas has been a very...unique one.

I emailed Amy, a friend of mine to tell her, and she said "I hope you mean a good unique and not a bad one." And while it was a sad Christmas, it was still good, you know? For once, my mom and I didn't get in an argument, and my mom and my grandmother didn't get in a fight, and myself and my grandmother didn't get in a fight. There was no fighting. I spent all of two seconds on the computer. I got to see my baby and he was looking really good. Which made me feel good.

I don't know. It was a sad Christmas and I'm looking forward to returning to college and seeing my friends and going back to thinking about nothing serious. Bye for now.

Lizzie Arlen