Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Christmas with The Coach

It all fell into place.

The Coach missed his connection to Detroit. When he called to tell me (I was supposed to pick him up at 10:30 on Sunday night), he told me about how he was just dying to go to this Christmas festival at one of the local museums but that tickets for yesterday were sold out.

I promised that I would work on it.

10 hours, a little Craigslist trolling and some good luck later: I had tickets lined up. He was thrilled.

The Coach is the biggest nerd about Christmas and I find it incredibly endearing. While he was overseas, he was lamenting the fact that this great coaching opportunity meant that he was missing out on all of his "favorite Christmas activities." Such as seeing The Christmas Carol and the like. He was more than a little bit grateful that we could squeeze in the holiday celebration at the museum, even though it meant three hours outside in very bitter weather. We drank a lot of hot chocolate. We spent a lot of time defrosting by the fire pits that were staggered about the grounds.

We saw Santa. Santa stands on the balcony of one of the old buildings and he yells down to all of the kids. "I see Mitchell from Florida! Hello, Sophie and Evelyn!" Parents whisper their names to a trio of women dressed as carolers and they radio up to Santa. It's clever. And the kids lose their shit.

I am a thoughtless and childless bitch and said something to The Coach about finding out who we needed to talk to in order to get a shout out from Santa and a mom almost killed me dead with her stare. I'm pretty sure her kid didn't hear me (we were well away from Santa at that point anyway) so I will maintain the belief that I did not ruin Christmas for that innocent child. But I still feel like an idiot.

The museum is a bunch of old, historic buildings so we got to duck inside them and see and hear about all of the history -- they always included what Christmas in that year would be like -- which was both interesting and a good opportunity to warm up. There was music everywhere and The Coach would always stop for a second to see. He insisted on roasted chestnuts. He had to look closer at every Christmas tree. He held open doors, told the museum goers who came in costume that they looked good, tried on a women's hat in the old fashioned hat store and thanked the older woman who insisted that he looked quite fine before the hat.  

We talked about his future coaching plans and what he bought his nieces and nephew for Christmas. He told me about his tournament overseas; I filled him in on all of the random things that I never think to mention to him while he's gone. We complained about the cold and I would press my gloved hands over his very cold ears.

He crashed when we got back to the car. We defrosted and he looked exhausted all of a sudden, his two days of travel and three weeks overseas seemingly catching up with him at once. I had been so happy to see him that it barely registered that he had just arrived that morning, spending the afternoon shopping before coming over to my house. I got him all to myself on his first night home and it was such a treat. A cold treat. A cold treat that required I show up at a stranger's house with $40 and the hope that she wasn't a murderer. (She wasn't. She was actually quite nice and I'm glad that I brought along a box of chocolates to thank her, too, because scoring those tickets was clutch.) 

His trip home is so short this year. I won't see him nearly enough. Spending every minute with him over the next week wouldn't be nearly enough. And it won't be anywhere near that much. He has a lot of family to see. A lot of catching up to do. He feels like he misses a lot when he's away. He says he's ready to come back home. 

2 comments:

Gloriason said...

Yea for happy reunions!

Lifting What? said...

Plan a trip to visit him :) That will make it easier. For real. When I was in a long distance relationship, what kept us alive was knowing exactly when the next visit was.

 
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