And then the puppy threw up...

Well, this was my second Christmas with the Head family and Rome’s first. My family sat in front of the computer tracking Santa on NORAD (whatever that is) all day, excited when he flew through Italy and checking in again on him when he was over Iceland. I was confused because I thought that is where the jolly red fat man came from in the first place, but whatever. Oddly, after the kids were asleep, my parents were still checking out NORAD’s Santa Tracker and watched as Santa brought Christmas to Hawaii. FUN FACT: Did you know Hawaii is the last place on the planet to get Christmas? They save the best for last. Anyway, when we woke up and came down the stairs the next morning, there were gifts galore! The 5’ giraffe standing in our living room effectively lit my sister’s face with joy and scared Rome into the backyard for some personal hygiene issues. My brothers thought Santa was really funny, putting candy in with their new packages of boxer shorts. My mom said it was to make getting boxers for Christmas

seem sweeter- that Santa’s is a pretty funny guy! Rome and I were very excited that Santa brought us toys too. A ball, a rope and squeaky toy were all I could have ever hoped for. Rome destroyed his ball in less than 5 minutes then nearly ingested my sister’s bunny rabbit finger-puppet before my mom yelled, “DROP IT!” We got through the rest of the event without incident until my dad caught sight of the squeaky toy or should I say what was left of it. My family quickly sprang into action, picking up all the pieces, crisis averted... and then the puppy threw up!

Out to the grandparent’s house we went. Rome went nuts, running and chasing all the other dogs. Of course he is not discriminating when it comes to food so he ate everything, even the stuff in the dirt. He stole shoes and got up on the table. He was terrified of all the singing and dancing people. Maybe it was this fear that prompted it but regardless because, as we were getting ready to go, the puppy threw up!

Sunday was a restful day at our house. My brothers were getting ready to go to Colorado to see Uncle Dan and I was excited that the sun was out and the grass was dry. I watched my family packing and repacking my brothers’ suitcases, cleaning house, making beds but overall, having a very relaxed day. We said our goodbyes to my brothers as my family headed to the airport....... when my family got home, they were in a lather. They were talking about the ticketing agent being a bit much and how grateful they were for the nice folks at TSA. They were chatting about some nice folks they met from Canada, and then we all went to bed.

BEEEEEEPPPPPP BEEEEEEEEPPPP What is going on with my sister clock? It’s beeping ... up goes my dad, it’s off and then back to bed he comes. Then, just as suddenly, what is that noise? On goes the light. Dad is grabbing Rome and trying to get him down the stairs and then.... the puppy threw up... more pieces of my Christmas toy all over the floor! My mom was getting the carpet cleaner when it happened my sister’s alarm went off again. “Are you kidding,” says Mom as Dad raced up the stairs to shut it off. Just as he came down the stairs, my mom said, “well, I am up” and I was thinking, “I’m not, lets go back to bed.” Then, as if something woke my family up on purpose, the phone rang. Mom and Dad’s hearts both leapt. Mom grabbed the phone and I could tell by the look on her face she was concerned. “Hello,” she said, “Are you OK? What happened? Is your brother OK?” Oh no! I thought, this sounds serious. For the next several minutes, my mom was talking to random strangers trying to figure out what to do. You see, the airplane had a cooling issue and was turned around and sent back to Hawaii, only instead of coming back to Kona, my brothers were now on Oahu at one in the morning! Several people were offering to help my brothers. Remember that nice Canadian family? Well they having met my family and chatted a bit, offered to take care of my brothers. They got them to a hotel for the night. After several calls, my mom got their flight changed from the 2:30 PM flight the airline offered, to the 7:50 AM flight and the nice family was able to get on it too, just in case. As we all settled back into bed at 2:45 AM, we were certain we all were going to need naps and coffee in excess come the dawn. I heard my mom and dad talking about how it was sure lucky that they had met that family while they waited in the boarding area for my brother’s flight to leave. That chatted about how odd it was that so many things had happened to ensure they were awake when they got the call. They were thankful my brothers were safe and for all the nice people that stepped up to help them. I could tell when my brother called to tell Mom he was boarded on the morning flight that she was relieved. I also saw her put her cell phone in her pocket of her scrubs, just in case.

As for that squeaky toy, welI, I am happy to report the puppy produced the rest of it that morning. Although, I think my dad would have rather had the puppy throw up. RUFF!

A Christmas story.

Growing up in Great Falls Montana, I was one of those lucky children who got to be part of the best Christmas tradition ever. Our family was a good, Catholic family all living within a few city blocks from each other and always ready to come together for the holidays. Now even though not every one got along during the rest of the year, Christmas was special. My great-grandmother was the matriarch of our family and what she said was the law. This meant everyone was to attend, no excuses, and everyone was to be dressed for the occasion. This meant beautiful dresses for the ladies, ties and dinner jackets for the men and holiday cheer only. Any bad attitudes in attendance would hear about it from my Great-Grandmother and well, let’s just say no one wanted that. Her house was very small; 2 bedrooms, a kitchen filled with delft plates and cups, a living room, dining room and a basement with a small kitchen and a bathroom that always smelled like rose water. She raised 5 children in that house and for some reason despite the size on a normal day, the house seem to expand on Christmas. Now, for the reader I need you to soften your focus like in the movies from the fifties when the glow from the lights filled the room, where handsomely dressed people are drinking hot toddies and spirits and children are playing in every corner waiting for Santa’s arrival. There was more food then anyone could ever eat and the decorations were all glitter and grace, silver angels adorned the tree and the tinsel hung like ribbons of gold from the fresh cut bows. My grandmother and great-grandmother, even on in years, had the most amazing dresses. My grandmother had the smallest waist and I remember thinking even as a very young girl that she was so beautiful. Her and her sisters were like something out of Hollywood. My great uncle was always walking around, filming movies and making sure to capture everyone in techni-color. There would be laughter and the building of anticipation for the guest of honor. First came the bells, faint at first so you had to listen, then louder and a thump on the roof, then Santa would ring the door bell. He would come in with such a presence that every child, young and old, were captivated by him and more importantly, what treasure awaited for you from within the velvet bag he carried. We all would line up and take turns to tell him what was our heart’s desire and then magically it would be the very gift he had for you in the bag. He would depart making sure to say, “now go to sleep, no peeking, HO HO HO!!!” and off he would go, jingling all the way.

While the children were all happily playing with new toys and treasures, the adults would be laughing and chatting, swaying to Old-Blue Eyes rendition of “White Christmas” and all was right in the world. The men would eventually make their way down to the basement and smoke cigars and the ladies would begin to gossip and tidy-up the kitchen. The children would start to rub weary eyes and the magic of the holidays would wind down. We would all wish our many blessings to each other and head home to nestle children into beds. It was after such a night that I had the most magical moment ever. In fact, in my 36 years, I can not recall a more magical Christmas night.

This most magical Christmas was the Christmas night when my mother and I did my brother’s paper route still dressed in our holiday finest. It was 1:00 in the morning and here we were in our dresses and big snow boots, hats and gloves. There were no cars on the roads, only blankets of perfect snow, glistening in the light from the street lamps. Our dog Sophie, a cock-a-poo, trailing behind us collecting ice in her whiskers, transforming her from a black lap-dog to a some mythical creature in an instant, as we delivered the Christmas paper to all of our neighbors. I remember my mom and I laughing at the quiet of that night when the snow seemed to whisper under our feet, while the flakes of snow fell gently from the sky. We ran and danced in the snow and sang Christmas songs softly into the night. The decorations on the houses in our neighborhood seemed to sparkle like gemstones, emeralds and rubies and sapphires abounding. I felt like I was on the set of some movie and time had stood still as we walked through the snow. I remember how my mother looked in the lamp light with her dark, chestnut hair and and her long, velvet car-coat. She was the same age then as I am now and she was a stunner. I remember growing up and hearing stories about her when she was young, told to me by her dad, my granddad- how she rode motorcycles and raced powder-puff race cars, how she was a crack shot with a rifle and how men fought over her, my dad included. I remember thinking how could this graceful women do all those things and still seem like such a lady, but on that night I could see anything was possible. Time had stood still and the grace of the night had shone its light and love on my little piece of the world.

Being in Hawaii, away from all my family for the holidays seems strange to me. Stranger still is the sunny and 80-degrees, no snow in- sight, my mind has yet to wrap around the idea that yes, it is really December. I called my mom the other day to say how strange it is to have no snow this time of the year. Although it is many years later and we are gearing up for the holidays thousands of miles apart, my mom and I still recall this night with one of us saying, “remember that night” and it will transport us back to a time, long ago, to a Christmas like no other. We will laugh as we talk about the icicles on the dog and how silly it was to be out in our dresses, how beautiful everyone looked at Grandmother’s and how many years it has been since she left us. As happens, many of the players of that holiday have passed on and, with it, the loss of an era, yet the memories of this tradition is etched so deeply on our hearts that the mere thought brings tears to my eyes, softening the focus once again on the memories from so long ago. Those yester-year thoughts of Christmas, of families together, where sleigh bells ring, where the snow glistens, where we are happy, as we go walking in a winter wonderland..... I can not recall what gifts I received that year, but I can recall every sound, smell, taste and feeling of that magical night and that is the greatest gift of all.

T'was a month before Christmas....

I was so excited by the lack of craziness around the Hospital and the house that I had nearly forgotten I had that four-legged brother of mine. Alas, I got a firm reminder and almost an electric one this weekend as my family set up the holiday decor around the Hospital. As usual, I was up front, minding my own business, chewing on the HUGE Kong Mom slipped me when my brother wasn’t looking. Mom and Dad were busy hanging lights and setting up the tree. My sister was helping my mom hang the ornaments and the puppy was in the back enjoying the sun. Mom had just put the finishing touches on the lobby and hung all of the stockings with our staff’s names on them when my human sister let the puppy in.

I heard him come through the door about the same time the whirlwind of a dog hit the tree. Now, this tree swivels making it easy to decorate and well, apparently, also to do the hula when hit by a MACK Rome. As the tree spun around, the ornaments went flying in all directions. It was like a scene from one of those Hollywood ninja movies where suddenly the air is filled with throwing stars, only in the movies, they are thrown with purpose and you know where they are going. This was more of a duck and take cover operation. The silver balls all bouncing and crashing across the floor, the gold snowflakes spinning wildly in every direction and in the middle of it all, the catalyst for this calamity getting tangled in the tree skirt. He dashed around to where I arose from the clatter of objects being hurled in my direction. He crouched down under me as if I were going to be his canine shield and protect him. Not gonna happen pup, I thought, and under the desk I went. I barely realized my mom and sister were there until they came skating around the corner on a snowflake and a prayer. The wake of destruction was wide-reaching. My sister said, “Rome is a crazy dog, Mom.” Mom, looking at the lobby and the veritable waste land that Rome had created, was merely silent. What took all morning to create had taken my brother less then 15 seconds to destroy.

My dad rushed in, hearing the commotion and seeing the devastation, turned and walked away quickly from the scene taking my sister with him. My mom was left standing there holding the tree and trying to figure out which end of this adventure was up. Dad returned and took “Senior Destruction” to the back and put him in his kennel. Mom started to clean up the carnage and right the world of holiday happiness once again. I crawled out from under the desk and came out to survey the damage. The whole bottom of the tree was empty and all the snowflakes were off the tree and strewn around the lobby. The silver and glittery balls were everywhere but near the tree and the tree-topper was now a hat for the soda cooler nearby. The tree skirt blanketed the scale a good 10-feet from the tree and the red flowers that had been dislodged from the tree were beautifying the lobby in what one can only describe as an expressionist masterpiece without a master to weld them.

I walked up to my mom as she began to reassemble the tree and nudged her hand. She looked down at me at me and said, “Pike, your brother is a wreaking ball.” I pushed a silver ball with my nose as if to say “good thing everything on the tree is plastic, right Mom?” Mom seemed to get my drift. She turned to me and said, “well Pike, plastic makes it possible.” She shrugged her shoulders, then the lights on the tree flickered and then crackled and then the lights went out, as if to punctuate the trees final curtain call.

I am happy to report the lobby has been restored and looks beautiful. Rome has figured out how to give the tree a wide berth and I have decided what I am getting my brother for the holidays.... a short leash! -RUFF!!!!