Connie's Coda*
Monthly Column by Constance Gilbert

Life is full of beginnings. New Year’s Day brings in the new year. Moving brings a new neighborhood. Starting in a new school or grade or in a new job brings new people into our lives and added challenges. All of which, scared me.

My maternal grandmother used to tell us “What happens on New Year’s Day, happens all year long.” I suppose the purpose was to be good and do the right things so your next year would be a good one. However, at our house, it was used as the reason for taking down the Christmas decorations and cleaning the house from top to bottom.

Thus, every New Year’s Day, during my growing up years, was a nightmare!

The day started with a nice, relaxing breakfast including another special Christmas coffeecake filled with sugar and cinnamon with pecans or filled with yummy, sweet almond paste. Some years we each had a second giant orange. (Santa always left an individual box of cereal and a huge orange in our stockings. Every year, my mother baked German sweet kuchen or coffeecake for the holidays using my grandmother’s recipe.) Sounds like a Hallmark card scene, doesn’t it?

But trouble soon followed with the de-trimming of the Christmas tree, while we kids put away our gifts and began cleaning our bedrooms.

As my brother grumbled about having to clean all of his room by himself - the price you must pay for having your own room, my sister and I argued about what parts of our room were our responsibility. Actually, pretty normal sibling behavior until the arguing began in the living room.

The lights on the tree were my father’s responsibility. He always checked each bulb and wound them carefully so they’d unroll easily and be ready for next year. My mother gently wrapped each bulb and packed them away in that year’s sturdiest cardboard boxes. This Currier and Ives picture soon changed though when my mother noticed the pine needles falling on her carpet. It was my dad’s fault for choosing a stale, dried out tree; and now, her vacuum was going to be ruined!

The truth is that Mom always had the final say; including at the Christmas tree lot. And my father faithfully watered the tree every day. But when the needles began to dry out, she wouldn’t let him take it down until New Year’s. By the time my father dragged the tree on a white sheet out the front door to the curb, the verbal fighting was into round 5 and they weren’t stopping when the bell rang.

Now her clean white sheet, which she had handed him, was dirty, snowy, and getting wet as the snow melted; and it still had pine needles stuck to it! Her washing machine was going to be ruined, too!

Oh, we can’t forget that one bulb that got missed and was crushed as Dad toppled over the tree onto the white sheet. As the bulb broke into tiny shards, my mother’s volume and viciousness escalated. It was everyone’s fault except for hers.

Then there was the unspoken rule that parents were not to argue in front of the children. About this time, we children were sent down the basement to clean our play area. (Like we couldn’t hear them fighting down there?)

Nothing was open on New Year’s Day -– no stores, malls, gas stations, drug stores, bars, nothing. Just like on Christmas, you had better have the needed batteries, film, rock salt for de-icing, ice for drinks, etc. on hand as there was no buying it on the holiday. That also meant there was no place for escape. The arguments went on all day long. Mom “spent too much money” on gifts... Dad’s paycheck wasn’t “fit to raise a family on”... and, one by one, we kids were punished for something.

Remember? “What happens on New Year’s Day, happens all year long.”

In “good” years, my parents had friends over. The arguments were put on hold, but my confusion became more muddled.

Why and how were my parents so different when others were around?

In my 20's, I finally realized that my mother had to fulfill her idea of the perfect wife and mother and she had to be the center of attention. So when guests arrived, she turned into June Cleaver and my Dad was “Father Knows Best.” When our company left, my father returned to his passive, subservient self until he was angry enough to buck Mom and the arguments resumed.

It’s safe to assume that my father was quite depressed for many years.

My mother, on the other hand, had personality disorders that were never diagnosed and treated.

As a child, I tried so hard to sort out my parents’ behaviors and inconsistencies, but couldn’t make any sense of them. I tried to protect my siblings; although, they thought I was just bossy and wanted things my way. What I actually learned were survival skills.

In the months ahead, we’ll be chatting about those.

For now –- January of 2008 -– I am reflecting upon last year, re-evaluating my goals and resolutions, and writing my goals for 2008.

I actually kept my 2007 resolution. (That may be a first!) Although 2007 was a difficult year health-wise, I have learned the joy of being in God’s presence and of being obedient as I realized His plans for me. I have recognized the Sonflowers (encouragers) in my life; I have been blessed with the opportunity to learn and start a Christian magazine online and to write several monthly columns; I have finally forgiven my mother for the years of verbal abuse; and I am content.

I still never clean on New Year’s Day! I visit with friends, write thank you notes, begin my post-Christmas tradition with Christmas cards, read an intriguing mystery book, and prepare for the next adventure God has in store for me during this coming year.

Remember? “What happens on New Year’s Day, happens all year long!”

As I write this, I am praying for you. I know beginnings are not easy for those of us who have experienced bad childhoods. They bring back bad and sad memories; they bring submerged emotions close to the surface; they ignite fears.

Yet, we can and should choose our responses. We can break those chains of abuse, of fear, of worthlessness. We can make choices with reasonable expectations. We can arrange to be with our Sonflower friends versus our discouragers. We can let our deepest heartaches of the past turn into heartstrings to God’s comfort, encouragement, hope, joy, and love.

That is my prayer for you, my friends and readers!

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About the Author: Connie is currently writing a book on Breaking the Chains of emotional abuse. She is the coauthor of "Christ's Light: In and Beyond Us" (an e-book), and she writes for several Christian publications. Connie would love for you to visit her blog site found at www.consheartstrings.blogspot.com. She can be contacted by e-mail to: cgeewriter@yahoo.com.