It was the gift that kept on giving and giving in a year when we did not expect to give anyone a thing – at least not in person.
That was the plan. So early in December, I sent most of their gifts.
Then a week before Christmas, we realized the Pennsylvania family would be with the Indiana family this year – at a time we could be there also – if we moved quickly.
We started packing. An overnight stay in Sherwood with my daughter provided us a Christmas brunch of quiche, fruit and a reading of the Bible record of the first Christmas. Their son helped everyone tear open gifts before we hit the road to have supper in St. Louis.
The Missouri grandbaby squealed with delight and grabbed for the stuffed Elmo doll we gave her. She loves to chew google eyes. As soon as her daddy released the doll from the package she happily popped an eye in her mouth to chew.
Although I had vowed to not start re-stocking my shelves with Christmas items – the next day I yielded one day-after Christmas sale before heading to Indiana to meet the other families.
The Pennsylvania contingent stayed at the same hotel we did. Granddaughters held a bunking party with us, sleeping in the extra bed and on the floor in our hotel room.
And that’s where the gift that keeps on giving appeared.
In the wee hours of the morning, my husband woke me with his violent shivering. We tried to be quiet, but that hardly works when he decided a hot bath would work better at warming him than any number of extra blankets.
He had the stomach flu, and within the hour, I realized, I had it, too.
We could not hide any of it from a bunch of giggling girls who woke up astounded at the sounds emanating from the necessary room.
By having the granddaughters sleepover for the night, we had exposed everyone in the family so we took a vow to fast the entire day, held our breaths, avoided the newborn, declined the special foods set out that day and plugged through the day of visiting.
At the grandson’s birthday party celebration that evening, we broke our fast with a shared can of ginger ale, chatted with folks and collapsed into bed about 9 p.m.
We got up the next morning and felt fine, just fine the entire 17-hour trip home.
We stopped to stretch our legs for about half an hour in Sherwood. I wanted to stay and sleep before going to work the next day. My husband wanted to go home. We went. He drove. Nearly comatose, I slept.
Monday we both woke up with stomach flu symptoms – again. Hoping against hope we called to see if anyone else had caught the holiday bug.
They all had it. Every last one of them – except the newest mother and child.
The Pennsylvania youngest had sipped fluids throughout the long drive home. The rest succumbed at home. The construction worker had perfect weather for working Monday, but only left the bed for quick runs down the hall. Even two days later, he said his diaphragm hurt.The flu symptoms caught a couple at extremely inconvenient times with extremely forceful manifestations.
All holiday feasting on rich foods came to an abrupt end as we inaugurated the new Hershberger weight loss diet: clear soda, crackers, bananas, applesauce and tepid water.
Only the Sherwood and St. Louis contingents of the family missed the gift that keeps on giving.
They didn’t want it anyway.