Happyish Holidays 2022

‘Tis the season! Our terrible holiday tradition is back, this time with more of your painful, sad, awkward holiday stories. Plus: boundary setting advice from Melissa Urban and a fiery Hanukkah story from Vanessa Zoltan.

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Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

Terrible Caller: Hi, Nora! I had to share an awful, terrible, no good, very bad holiday experience.

Terrible Caller: So, my first Christmas Eve without my husband, I went to a bar.

Terrible Caller: My last Christmas was terrible.

If the holidays are hard for you, you’re not alone. But isn’t this the most wonderful time of the year? A time of wonder and amazement? A time of giving?

Of course it is! But like any good infomercial will tell you … wait! There’s more!

For a lot of people, this isn’t the happiest time of the year. It’s … a time of the year. Or, at best, it’s a happyish time of year. A time that is tinged with sadness, rusted with lingering trauma, stained with the tears of yesteryear … you get it.

Terrible Caller: About six years ago on Christmas, my … I think I was visiting home, and it was the first Christmas that my mom's new boyfriend was going to spend with us. She’d asked if it was okay if he spent the night, and we said yes. We were a little awkward, but we were looking forward to it. I wake up Christmas morning, I’m in my mid-twenties, my brother’s in high school. Just the two of us wake up, and my mom is not there. My … her boyfriend is not there. And we get a little note on the kitchen table that says, “Went to ER. Text me. Love, Mom.” And in the middle of the night, my mom's boyfriend had had a brain bleed. Horrible, horrible headache. So they went to the ER and then ended up getting life-flighted out to a bigger hospital and spent a lovely, lovely Christmas in the stroke ward. My brother and I were kind of like, “What do we do now?” And so we went normally as we went to my aunt's house for Christmas morning because, you know, keep things, keep things normal. I was being, I don't know, awkward and didn't want to give bad news, so was hanging out. And about half an hour after being there, someone was like, “Um, when's your mom coming?” And it wasn't until then, but I was like, “Oh, by the way, uh, they're in the hospital?”

OH, BY THE WAY, THEY’RE IN THE HOSPITAL!

OH, BY THE WAY, THEY’RE IN THE HOSPITAL!!!

Did you hear that? Our caller spent Christmas Day trying to keep it normal for other people, trying to pretend like somewhere down the road their mom wasn’t standing by her boyfriend’s beside in the stroke ward as he fought for his life!

By the way, Mom’s boyfriend survived and he has been a stepdad for many years. He made it. He made it. Even if he did ruin Christmas with his brain bleed that one time.

I’m Nora McInerny, and this is Happyish Holidays, our annual celebration of the things that don’t make it onto a Christmas card. The experiences that don’t fit the holly jolly spirit. The reality of what REALLY makes the holiday special.

In 2014, my husband Aaron died two days before Thanksgiving, and my family had Thanksgiving? Well, what was left of my family had Thanksgiving. My dad had died in early October, and my siblings and mother and our kids and our remaining spouses just sat around a table and did our best to be grateful.

It. Was. Miserable.

So why did we do it? Because we thought we had to. We thought we should do what normal people do. We thought the best use of our time together would be sitting there, pushing food around our plates, and pretending to feel the way we were supposed to feel: happy, grateful.

We would rather have broken our own hearts than break our traditions, and what was meant to pull us closer together just had us all feeling incredibly, intensely alone.

We were trying to fit ourselves into a mold that didn’t exist anymore. We weren’t making space for who and how we were in that moment, which was terrible, absolutely terrible.

Kind of like this caller. 

Terrible Caller: I have kind of a strained relationship with my in-laws, as many people do. And about five years ago, a few days before Christmas, my family got hit with just a really nasty, nasty stomach virus. It started with my 1-year-old at the time, who was throwing up. And then I got it on Christmas Eve. My husband's a pastor, which means Christmas Eve, he is just at church all day. It was awful. I ended up having to go to the ER just to get some IV fluids and meds and finally feel human. So we let his mom know that we would not be making the drive for Christmas because I was sick, and it caused such a huge rift. She was very upset, accusing me of making up the sickness so I could get out of coming. So we said, “Okay, if you would like us to be there, we will be there.” So I went, feeling pretty rough. There's nothing said about it. Great, it all goes fine. And then while we were already in the same state as my side of the family, we decided to stop by their Christmas celebration, which resulted in seven of my ten family members all coming down with the same awful stomach virus. One of my sisters was very pregnant and very sick, and I just felt so badly. And to this day, I'm still so annoyed that my mother-in-law insisted that we not miss Christmas because of a stomach virus. So, you know, that's just the way holidays go, I guess.

That’s how the holidays go, I guess. Sometimes it’s a gift exchange. Sometimes it’s a superspreader event because your mother-in-law doesn’t think a stomach virus is a valid reason to not join the gift exchange.

And that’s often what makes the holidays hard: other people! Our fear of disappointing them. Or, in this case, their lack of fear over spreading a virus. 

You are allowed to stay home when you have a stomach bug, by the way! You are allowed to stay home for any reason, actually. You are allowed to break traditions or start your own.

And that is easy to say when it’s not YOUR mother-in-law. And I do mean YOUR mother-in- law because I have two, and both of them are absolutely wonderful angels and I sometimes feel bad that I can’t relate when other people have MIL horror stories. I’m sorry.

It would be easier if people just respected you and your wishes right up front, but it’s just not always that simple. And because I have historically had very weak, very porous, basically nonexistent boundaries, I called in a friend who literally wrote The Book of Boundaries. No really that’s what the book is called.

Melissa: My name is Melissa Urban. I'm the Whole30 co-founder and CEO. That's what I'm best known for. And I've been helping people set and hold healthy boundaries around food and drink and table talk for the last 13 years. And most recently, I have authored the Book of Boundaries, which came out in October. And that's what we're here to talk about today.

Nora McInerny: One of the key components of your boundary work is the green, yellow, red system. Will you please explain that?

Melissa Urban: Yes. So my boundary philosophy is that I want you to go in with the minimum effort required to get the effect that you want to get. So ideally, you're going in with the gentlest, kindest boundary you can possibly share. It's still clear. But it's so kind, and it's just assuming that the other person didn't realize that you had a limit and doesn't want to overstep it and once you communicate it will be happy to respect it. That's your green boundary language. If they push back or if they forget, and you need to escalate that language, I give you yellow verbiage. This is more direct. It's still kind. But it's saying, “Hey, this is a serious limit that I have, and these are the steps that I'm willing to take to keep myself safe and healthy.” If they continue to purposefully disrespect your limit, then you've got red boundary language, and this is the boundary itself. It is the action, the consequence that you are going to take in the face of this person's just blatant disrespect at this point. But I always want you to start off in the green, going in just as gently as possible.

Nora McInerny: I like that. I like the assumption that other people meanwhile, that we all mean well, that we're all doing our best. But the holidays are also an extremely stressful time for so many people. For so many people. And so I'm hoping you can give us some green, yellow, red examples of real boundary setting that some of our listeners have needed.

Melissa Urban: Yes, I'm ready.

Nora McInerny: And I'm, I'm going to start out with one that is a doozy. I have to read it with a straight face because it is real. “My mother-in-law doesn't believe that I have the stomach flu and called me to force me to come to Christmas even though I am sick to my stomach and so contagious, I will eventually infect the rest of my family. What do I do in this situation?”

Melissa Urban: This is wild. However, I have heard some wild stories, so I'm not necessarily shocked or surprised. I'm assuming that this could be answered very simply with, “Hey, Barbara. I have explosive diarrhea, so I'll call you tomorrow.” That could be, like, the simplest boundary, but that's not really what we're talking about here, honestly. What we're going to do is use this example to help people who are struggling with the idea of expectations from other people in their family that do not align with what they themselves want for their family during the holidays. So let's kind of extrapolate this out, beyond the “I'm really sick” and into that kind of territory. So, if anyone guilts you for not showing up the way that they want you to show up, I want you to remember that you also deserve the holidays that you want. You should put yourself on the list of people who should have a happy, jolly holiday season. And I would recommend you putting yourself at the top of that list, especially if you now have your own family. So your first step here is to decide as a family – so whether that's just you by yourself, or you and your spouse or partner, or you and your partner and your kids, if applicable – what you want your holidays to look like. And I want you to be really specific. This is a step that I think a lot of people skip. They just go straight to: “What do other people want for me? Where do they expect me to show up?” But I want you to think about that for yourself. Where do you spend Christmas Eve or Christmas morning or Christmas dinner? Are you willing to travel? How many homes are you willing to travel to? Are you willing to see everybody on the same day? Or would you rather spread it out? Would you rather just stay home and just have the holiday all to yourself? So your first step is really getting clear on what you want your holidays to look like.

Melissa Urban: Then I want you to communicate this clearly to other people as a team. So here's what it could sound like. This is your green boundary language. “Hey, Barbara. We'll be spending Christmas morning at our house with just the kids, but we'll come to your house around 2 p.m. for dinner. We'll need to leave by six, though, so we can go visit with Dad and Susan before the kids go to bed.” So that's very specific language focusing on what you will do this holiday season. If they push back, you're going to enact a yellow boundary where you acknowledge their disappointment without rescinding your boundary. So here's what it could sound like. “I know you're disappointed, Barbara. We will make the most of our afternoon with you, and we will hold the presents that you sent to the kids until we get to your house so they can open them with you.” And then the red boundary is you just hold it together as a family unit. You do what you say you're going to do. You spend Christmas morning at your house. You show up at Grandma and Grandpa's at 2 p.m. and you leave by six to do the rest of your plans, and you hold it. And that's really how you enact any boundary around the holidays in the face of people's expectations not matching what you want for your holiday season.

Nora McInerny: Mmmm. So in the case of, like, you're so sick that you literally should not be going to Christmas, like, one of the things about this, about this listener is, I think like a normal year, this is exactly what she would have wanted to do, right? [Melissa: Of course]. And yet, like to me, to me, and I am not assuming the best in this, in this situation, like to me it is so disrespectful for, like, anybody to be like, “Oh, I don't believe you're sick.” It's bananas to me. [Melissa: Yeah]. Like the green boundary is, “I am so sorry. I'm shitting my pants. I'll have to call you another time.”

Melissa Urban: I wouldn't even apologize for it. [Nora: Yeah!] That's the thing right, like, we often feel like we need to apologize, right? Yes. The green boundary is, “I am disappointed too. But I am, and I am so sick that I can't even have this conversation. I will call you tomorrow.” And then you turn your phone off for the rest of the day. Because the last thing you need when you're sick is someone guilting you into feeling like you're not showing up for them somehow. You're only, I feel like in this case there's only one boundary which is, I'm not coming, I'm sick, and I'm not going to talk about this again until I feel better. And then you can have the conversation around, “That felt really crappy to me. Like I was really sick and instead of expressing concern for me, you were saying how I was disappointing the whole family by being sick. That didn't feel good.”

Nora McInerny: Yeah, and, you know what didn't feel good? All of her sisters got sick, too. She spread it. She was basically the original super spreader. Great, great, great.

Melissa Urban: So she was the Christmas… What do they call her? Typhoid Mary. That was her. Christmas Mary.

Nora McInerny: She was! She was. She was Diarrhea … Diana.

Melissa Urban: Oh, I would be so mad! I'd be so mad if someone showed up to my Christmas like that.

Nora McInerny: We got this from many people. “My friends and family are big gift givers and have more money than me. I'd prefer we not exchange gifts or cap the cost at $10, but they never respect this, and I end up looking cheap. How do I handle this?”

Melissa: Okay. I like this one because this really speaks to my basic boundary philosophy, which is, you can only set boundaries for yourself. Boundaries tell other people what you will do to keep yourself safe and healthy – to protect your time, your energy, your mental health, and in this case, your finances or your stress levels. So you can't set boundaries for someone else. Assuming that you want to exchange gifts and you just need to set a limit around your own spending, here's what I would say. Your green boundary, what you would go in with well before the holiday season to give people plenty of time to prepare and adjust is, “I would love to suggest a $20 limit for gifts, as that's all I'm comfortable with this year. That's all I'm comfortable with. I'd like to suggest a $10 limit for gifts, or a $20 limit. That's what I'm comfortable with.” Then, you let people do what they're going to do, because you cannot make someone else behave in any specific way. But what you can do is hold your boundary. If you said, “I am only comfortable with spending $10 per person on gifts,” then hold that boundary and you buy gifts within that $10 mark. If they choose to spend $1,000 and give you the iPad – I'm thinking about that “Office” episode where Michael Scott, Michael Scott brings the iPod to the Secret Santa, like, circle. And everyone is just … it's so awkward because he spent so much more than everyone else. If other people want to spend more than that, then let them. That's not your business or your responsibility and nobody can make you feel cheap. You take that on yourself. [Nora: Damn!] So if other people spend more- I know, but that's the truth. [Nora: It’s true.] You said this is my limit. Then you held to your limit. You thoughtfully picked out a gift or made a gift that was special for them within your limits. You should feel really proud of that, that not only you gave this person a gift that was so thoughtfully presented, but that you also honored your own limits in doing so. That in itself is a gift. 

Nora McInerny: I love that.

Melissa Urban: Yeah, and if they choose to exceed it, then that's on them. And they are responsible for their own limits.

Nora McInerny: This is a, this is a tough one, this is from a person who has recently divorced. Recently divorced. So, “I am recently divorced and my family does not support my choice to have left a relationship that was unhealthy for the both of us. How do I respond to family members who want to talk about my relationship status at family gatherings?”

Melissa Urban: Yes, this one comes up a lot and I think it stresses a lot of people out. And it's not just relationship status, it's baby-making status. It's what you're going to do with the rest of your life. It's what you're going to do after college. It's how your job is going. It's your choice of romantic partner or lack thereof. There are a lot of conversations around, like, life status, and life status changes, that you just don't want to have over the holidays when- with relatives that you only see once in a while, when you really just want to enjoy yourself. So in this situation, as with so many, I will always say: Set the boundary ahead of time, if you can. As often as possible. So, reach out to key family members or the person who's hosting or whoever you know will ask ahead of time, and set a green boundary. So it sounds like, “I will not be talking about or hearing opinions on my divorce, or co-parenting, or my current relationship status at Christmas. If I'm going to attend, I need this not to be a subject of conversation.” Okay? I have had to set that boundary before, going into holidays where, you know, I was recently separated and was like, “Hey, we're not talking about this at the holidays.” So that's the language that I used. In the moment, you also probably need some backup, because if you can't set it ahead of time or people forget, or if you're not going to call, like, all 30 people, who's, who are going to be at your holiday gathering ahead of time, then in the moment, your green boundary, if someone was commenting or making an opinion, would sound like something, you know, “Please stop. My relationship status is not up for discussion today. But tell me about your vacation. How was Costa Rica?” You're going to change the subject quickly after you set the green boundary. So, hey, I'm not talking about my relationship today, but tell me about this other thing that's not controversial. That changes the subject. That makes it clear I won't continue the conversation and buys you like a little bit of grace if you feel a little bit defensive that you overstepped. If they persist, you could set a yellow boundary, which is even more clear, which is, “Stop. I am not asking for your feedback or your opinion, so please either change the subject or I'll excuse myself.” And that's the red boundary. The red boundary is you leave. You leave the conversation. You go for a walk. You go in the bathroom. Or you leave the event early because people are so far up in your business that it is no longer a pleasant environment for you.

Nora McInerny: And you already gave them the parameters. [Melissa: Correct.] You already gave them the parameters. And I love that gentle redirect too, which is like, “Let's talk about literally anything else.”

Melissa Urban: Yeah, absolutely! You know, the reason I set the green, the reason we go green and yellow is because if you walk in the door, “Hey, Happy Thanksgiving,” and your mom starts asking you a question about your relationship, and you go, “I’m not talking about that,” and then you leave and slam the door, that's going to feel incredibly abrupt and pretty rude, and it's probably going to hurt your relationship. So we want to give people the opportunity to respect our limit while having a backup plan for what we are going to do if it proves challenging for them to meet us halfway.

And we’ll meet YOU halfway … after this break.

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Okay, we’re back with more holiday boundary setting.

Nora McInerny: “I'm recently sober and very nervous about the holidays. How do I respond to people who pressure me into having ‘just one drink?’”

Melissa Urban: I know. I have so much empathy for this because I really struggled for this, with this, early in my recovery when I didn't want to tell people that I was in recovery, because it was none of their business. But I felt so incredibly shaky in social situations. So I have a lot of empathy. In this context, I think you have a few different options. First, you definitely don't need to tell anybody about your recovery status if you don't want to. You do not owe that to anybody. So my green boundary when it comes to alcohol is always, “No thanks.” Literally. “No thanks.” And if you already have something in your hand, that makes it even easier. If you already have a LaCroix or a Ritual Zero Proof or some kind of nonalcoholic cocktail. Don't pretend. Don't, like, pretend you've got a vodka soda. But if you already have something in your hand and you're like, “No, clearly I already have a beverage. I'm good.” You can just say no thank you. If they continue to pressure you, then I like a slower and more direct – and I like a good eye contact here – “I said no, please stop asking.” If you say it just like that with eye contact, the person has to get your cues at that point. Like I am telling you loud and clear, this is not a subject I want to continue, and I'm not going to give you any more explanation or an excuse. I'm not going to answer why. I'm just saying please stop asking. If it does continue, and this sometimes tends to happen when people have more to drink, and they stop being so aware of how their behavior is impacting other people, then you might have to change conversation partners or leave the event. You might have to take the action you need to keep yourself safe. If you are comfortable enough, you can set your boundary while you teach other people a lesson. And this is what I do at this point. “Hey, I'm newly sober, and I'm already kind of nervous about navigating the holidays without alcohol, and pressuring someone to drink is like a pretty shitty thing to do. So maybe you shouldn't do that.” It's, it's, it's less kind, I'll give you that. It's not particularly kind. And also, we are not in junior high, and we should not be pressuring people to consume a controlled substance at this point. So if you want to teach people a lesson, you can say something like that or you can just say, like, “Hey, I'm in recovery, so you can stop asking.”

Nora McInerny: Yeah, you taught me, “Oh I'm just, I'm not drinking tonight. I'm not drinking tonight.” They don't need to know that you're not drinking any other night. [Melissa: No, no.] But like tonight, it's also true, you're not drinking tonight.

Melissa Urban: Correct, and if you feel comfortable saying, “I don't drink,” please say that, because that normalizes people not drinking in any context. So absolutely say that because you never know who's listening and who might feel empowered to say no thank you.

Nora McInerny: Okay, this is our final one. It's not a small one, which is also a very common one. “My family and I do not align politically, and every interaction turns into them grilling me about my political beliefs. I'd like to just exchange presents, catch up on our lives, and not discuss why I vote the way I vote. Help.”

Melissa Urban: Yeah. I could do this one in my sleep at this point, because I have talked to so many people, pre-holiday, who are expressing this. And it doesn't matter what your views are. If you and your – even if you agree with your family on political views, you just don't want every single event to be focused on politics, like, can we just get a break and enjoy our turkey? So again, set the expectation ahead of time. Here is where I will call whoever is hosting the event or whoever is sort of … maybe it's the matriarch of your family, whatever it looks like. And I would say, “Hey, Mom, we know that we don't agree on politics or social justice issues or religion or whatever it is, and nobody has fun when these topics come up. So I would like all of us to agree not to bring up anything political at Christmas. That way we can all enjoy ourselves. We can all enjoy the day.” If they agree, if they're like, “Yeah, okay, that sounds good,” which most of the time people will, to be honest, because nobody has fun when you're arguing over the turkey, then you've got this precedent set now where it's like, “Okay, we've all agreed. Mom, when everyone calls you to find out what they can bring and what time to show up, let them know that this is our family rule this year. And if Uncle Joe brings up immigration at the table, I'm going to remind him, okay? And I want you to back me up.” And your mom's like, “Okay, sure, I've got this.” Then in the moment, now you have this sort of yellow boundary script where if someone does bring it up, you can go, “Oh, nope, nope. We agreed no politics, but have you seen the new season of ‘Yellowstone?’ It is so good.” So once again, I'm setting the boundary and I'm changing the subject. And the way that you hold the boundary here is that you can't control what other people choose to talk about. You can't tell other people, “You can't have these words coming out of your mouth.” What you can say is, “I will not participate in these conversations.” So if they continue to talk about it after you've asked them not to, after you've set the yellow boundary, then you excuse yourself from the table. You go for a walk, you take the dogs for a walk, you go sit at the kids table, or you leave the event early, if that's the kind of event it's turning into. So that's the sort of boundary cascade for this kind of conversation. If you say to your mom on the phone, “Hey, can we all agree to this?” And your mom says, “No. No. We really like talking about politics and we like talking about who we voted for, and I don't understand why you believe the way that you believe in like, no, we're not going to take this off the table,” Now, you have a choice to make. Do you go knowing that that's going to be what your event is like? Or do you say, “Okay, thanks for letting me know, I'm going to spend Thanksgiving on my own this year.” Because that is an equally valid option because you should enjoy your holiday too.

Nora McInerny: Yeah. And if you decide that you are comfortable being uncomfortable for two and a half hours and just biting your tongue until it bleeds, you went in knowing that, which I think is so important. [Melissa: Yes, exactly.] And so there's, there's so much I love about this. And one is like doing that prep time in advance, like thinking about your game plan for these potential situations. Coming up with alignment, communicating it earlier and assuming the best. Unless you have diarrhea and someone asks you to come to Christmas.

Melissa Urban: If you have diarrhea, just go red. We’re going straight to red. [laughs]

Nora McInerny: It's going straight to red. [laughs]

We’ll be right back.

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Vanessa Zoltan: Hi, Terribles. It's Vanessa Zoltan. You may remember me from my TTFA episode, "Self-Portrait of My Own Misery." I'm also the author of “Praying with Jane Eyre” and the host of the podcasts, "Harry Potter and the Sacred Text," "Hot and Bothered," and "The Real Question." Nora wrote to me asking if I had a terrible Hanukkah story, and I do not. I have very lovely memories of Hanukkah. But my mother has a Hanukkah story that has been told to me many times a year my whole life. So I thought rather than tell it myself, I would give her a call and have her tell you her terrible Hanukkah story.

Vanessa Zoltan: So, Mom, you move to the United States when you're 5 years old in 1956. What are your Hanukkahs like that you remember?

Nicki: I remember going to my grandparents for Hanukkah, which was always very lovely. And we would play cards with my grandfather, which was only during Hanukkah that you did that.

Vanessa Zoltan: Why? Because gambling is allowed during Hanukkah, and he was Orthodox, is that why?

Nicki: Yeah, I guess because you would play with the- instead of the dreidel. We played blackjack.

Vanessa Zoltan: Blackjack. Wow. Okay. So one year, mom, Hanukkah stands out to you. What happened that year?

Nicki: That year, we had lit the candles, and they were on the mantel. And suddenly they caught fire. And I don't know why. I have no recollection of why. But suddenly there was a fire in the living room. Papa came. I don't know who noticed it, but we came and he started trying to put out the fire. And in doing so, he burned some things in putting out the fire. But one of the things that he took was a sweater that had, that belonged to my cousin Esther. And that sweater was destroyed.

Vanessa Zoltan: How much damage was there?

Nicki: It was pretty much in that one area, the wall. It wasn't, it didn't burn down the house or the room or anything. It pretty much was contained to that one area. And I still don't know why it caught on fire. We were lucky. It scorched the wall, but … but Papa rose to the occasion and put it out.

Vanessa Zoltan: Interestingly enough, that is not the part of the story that scarred you. What is the part of the story that scarred you?

Nicki: The insurance company was called. We put in a claim. The insurance company came out, and they were doing … they …they came to look at everything and saw everything that was damaged. And one of the things that we showed them was the sweater. I remember it was a blue sweater that was Esther's. And the guy wrote it down, and I said, “And yes, that's my cousin's sweater.” The insurance adjuster said, “Well, if that's your cousin’s sweater, it's not covered as part of the claim,” at which point Mama and Papa were quite upset at me.

Vanessa Zoltan: Why were they upset?

Nicki: Because they had to replace the sweater, I guess, and wanted to be reimbursed for it. They knew not to trust me, so they should have told me not to talk. But … but they didn't. I had a way of volunteering information if it was requested or not. You wanted to know something? I would just say it. And this definitely scarred me for life, because I would avoid situations when I was afraid that I might say something that would be detrimental to the family or situation.

Vanessa Zoltan: Now, why … why did this stick with you so much? What was the punishment?

Nicki: I think I wasn't allowed to go see “Bozo the Clown.” The TV show. Yeah, and I was not allowed to go.

Vanessa Zoltan: Now, would you say in general your parents were the punishing sort?

Nicki: No! They just … I think they just really wanted to make a point of keep your mouth shut. Yeah. It didn't work, though. Although–

Vanessa Zoltan: I know she's about to tell you about Dartmouth. Mm hmm. Go ahead.

Nicki: They were coming to the house to interview the family for my brother to get into … I guess it's Dartmouth – I didn't remember. And I hid in my room not to be there, afraid that I would say something that I shouldn't say.

Vanessa Zoltan: Afraid that they wouldn't let you go see “Bozo the Clown” again!

Nicki: For sure, only at that point I was what, 14? Actually, I didn't like Bozo. I liked “Chuckle the Clown” better, but … neither here nor there.

Vanessa Zoltan: I don't know. That seems totally relevant. One of my earliest memories is of you … we grew up in an area until we moved to L.A. when I was 5 where there were no Jews. Like there were no Jews at our elementary school, except for me and David. And you handmade us Hanukkah decorations, because there weren't Hanukkah decorations. And you felt like it was unfair that Christian kids got Christmas decorations and we didn't get any. So you, like, hand-painted Care Bear decorations for us.

Nicki: I made cards and gift tags out of Shrinky Dinks. I don't know if you remember those. Because I really found it … all, wrapping paper, every decoration was just blue and white and gold and stars. And I resented that for you. So I made sure you got what you should have, what other kids got.

Vanessa Zoltan: The other thing I remember is that you would tell us that we were very lucky to be Jewish because we knew the secret that there was no Santa Claus. But Christian kids were stupid and they didn't know that secret, so we couldn't tell them. And you threatened us! We would be punished if we told the Christian kids that Santa Claus wasn't real.

Nicki: I don't think I said they were stupid!

Vanessa Zoltan: Ehhhh, that was the implication.

Nicki: They were uninformed.

Vanessa Zoltan: But you definitely did a great job of making us feel special for knowing this adult thing and also made clear that we were not allowed to be the people, the Jews, who told the Christian kids that there was no Santa Claus.

Nicki: Can you imagine the Jews who ruined Christmas? [laughs]

Vanessa Zoltan: [laughs] You did not want us to be the only Jewish kids in our school who then ruined Christmas for everyone.

Vanessa Zoltan: Thanks, Mama. I love you. Happy Hanukkah.

Nicki: Thank you. Same to you.

That was Vanessa Zoltan, a friend of the pod and the creator and host of the podcast “Harry Potter and the Sacred Texts.” You might know her from her episode of Terrible, Thanks for Asking, “Self Portrait of My Own Misery.” 

And speaking of misery, here’s a Happyish Holidays story that might make you cry.

Terrible Caller: My last Christmas was terrible. To kind of set the scene: My dad was diagnosed with stage four cancer in 2017. Um, so, you know, over the years he did, chemotherapy, immunotherapy, radiation, and brain surgery. I mean, you name it. And a good part of that happening during COVID. So it was hard, you know? We could only be there in the hospital so much and, you know, the whole thing. So I, I would say like within the last year, though, we really kind of started to see the physical toll it was taking on him. And it was just hard, because he was so positive. He just was living in a body that was failing. So fast forward to December of this last year. My sister was taking my dad to an appointment right by the house, and they were hit almost head on. And it wasn't her fault. But it just was honestly the worst phone call I've ever gotten in my life. And um … she was okay. They cut my dad out of the car and took him to the hospital, and they realized that he needed a rod in his arm, both of his hips, and then he needed some of his vertebrae fused in his neck – or his spine, I guess. So needless to say, we spent all of December and most of January in the hospital. So for Christmas, I reached out to his friends and family and just kind of asked them to send us, like, a little video, and it turned into a 45-minute feature film. So we all sat in the lobby together and watched that and then just spent the rest of the day switching off in his room, because it was still COVID restrictions. So it just was hard. It was really hard. But he … he ended up passing in July, and with a lot of really awful events in between and … anyway, I looked to see maybe if I had a journal entry from this last holiday because I thought, you know, I know how I feel about it now, but I just kind of wanted to see what my snapshot in time looks like. And I'm just going to read that real quick, if that's cool. It was kind of some scribbled thoughts. And this is a week before Christmas, so … “I hate this. Honestly, every part of it. It is so baffling to me how there can be such duality in all things. I am simultaneously living through the hardest period of my life.” I thought. “Yet there have still been such beautiful moments. My dad is broken. His body, his spirit, his mind, utterly and irreparably broken. One thing that is not broken is his love. I have felt that stronger than I have at any point in my life. I've always known my dad loves me, but it's always been in action and far less often with his words. There have been many parts over the last few weeks that I want wiped from my memory indefinitely. But there have also been pieces that I want to hang on to. I just beg that my mind does not take these things from me with time. I don't want to think of my dad in this hospital bed. Let me, let me remember his laugh, his strength, the way he cared so deeply for others. Please let me replay all of the good times and let me think only of those.”

The year that Aaron died, I was experiencing what I didn’t know what PTSD. I would have these vivid flashbacks, sudden panic … I was not well. 

And then … his Christmas present arrived.

Aaron was a sweater guy, specifically cardigans. He used to say he didn’t want to be tardy to the cardi party, and I encourage you all to say that amongst yourselves. Make sure that lives. For Christmas, I’d ordered him a thick, shawl-collar cardigan from J.Crew — full price! —  so he could access his port easily, and stay warm and stylish, which was important to a man whose radiation oncology nurses had voted him Best Dressed.

It felt wrong to return it, even if I really needed the money, and the sweater would fit my brother, and so it became my brother’s.

On Christmas morning, our son opened a bunch of gifts that I had not bought for him, because a bunch of people — some of them strangers — had bought and wrapped gifts for under our tree. Friends had set up a Christmas tree for me as a surprise, and in the morning my mom and I drank coffee on the couch while Ralph just reveled in the bounty of consumerism and grief.

There was one package in the pile for me. And my mom handed it to me with a shrug. It was from a jewelry maker I loved in Minneapolis — Neal Jewelry — which was weird, because I definitely hadn’t ordered anything from her, just followed her and liked her and hoped to someday own a piece of her work.

And suddenly, I did. 

It was a gift from Lauren Neal — or, as her note explained, from Aaron. 

Literally, on his death bed, he’d left a comment (that I hadn’t seen!) that said something like, “Wow this would be perfect for my wife, I gotta get her ring size.” She hadn’t seen the comment until after he died, and took the time to find me and my address … and send me the ring that Aaron hadn’t had the time to buy me.

It put it on, and I did not take it off, even when I removed my wedding band. 

I still wear it. I still wear it, along with my wedding band from Matthew. It’s delicate, lightly hammered gold, so thin it’s barely perceptible in photos. It is my reminder, every day, that one thing that is not broken is love.

Wherever you are — or aren’t — whatever you do (or don’t) this holiday season, I hope that you find that true. I hope that you can find — or remember — something beautiful, no matter how broken things may be.

I’m Nora McInerny and this has been Happyish Holidays from “Terrile, Thanks for Asking.” I’m Nora McInenry, which I already said. Ohhhhh. I already said I was Nora McInerny! But the rest of the team here at Feelings & Co are some of your favorites. I’m talking about Marcel Malekebu. I’m talking about Jordan Turgeon. I’m talking about Megan Palmer. Larissa Witcher. Eugene Kidd. I’m talking about Claire McInerny. 

I want to thank every single person who contributed to this episode an who called and emailed in their own Happyish Holiday stories. I read them all, I listened to them all. I appreciate them all. Some of them made me laugh. A lot of them made me cry. I’m very, very grateful for the community that we have. 

Thank you to Melissa Urban. You can find her book, The Book of Boundaries, wherever you get books. It’s been on the NYT Bestseller list for weeks at this point. And you can find Vanessa Zoltan’s work at VanessaZoltan.com and listen to her podcast, “Harry Potter and the Sacred Text” wherever you get podcasts.

If you are looking for another way to support our show, you can consider joining TTFA Premium. We have different levels. You can get ad-free episodes, bonus content, and a third level which includes quarterly snail mail. Oooooooh! TTFA Premium is of course a great way to support us, but so is listening. So is rating and reviewing this podcast wherever you get podcasts and sharing our work with other people. You can always reach out and email us at terrible@feelingsand.co. That’s terrible@feelingsand.co. Or call us as 612-568-4441. 

I’m Nora McInerny, and I recorded this in my house.