The Feel of Family

The office Christmas party was like none another. I was excited to join everyone for another gathering, albeit a little nervous. A few months ago, when I was hired, we all met at a restaurant for a family style celebration. We had a good time until Jacob started throwing a tantrum and then quickly progressed to throwing up. He filled two water glasses with vomit. Everyone was kind and helpful but I know it couldn't have been pleasant. Embarrassed, I left shortly thereafter. Tonight was going to be different. "I won't let him tantrum," I told John, "I'll hold him all night long and we'll all be happy." Even so I brought extra clothes... just in case.

We arrived at Sam Choys, a little earlier than everyone else. The restaurant was all dressed up for Christmas with a huge holiday tree and sparkling lights. The long table had been prepared for the 8 main workers from our office and their families for a total of 20 settings placed. As we waited for the guests, John and I had a chance to relax with the kids... we ordered alcohol as soon as possible. I needed to unwind. It had been a cranky day for me. I was missing my family. There was a phenomenally low number of Christmas cards this year. Close to zero. Either everyone decided it wasn't worth the trouble or Guam is too far away.

On a whim, I ordered Shirley Temples for the kids. It brought back such delightful memories of dinner out with my parents. When I was young, we would go out to eat usually for special occasions, and I'll always remember this drink named after the famous little girl star. I remember the first one. We had gone out to eat at The Old Mill on a cold February day in Pennsylvania. I had felt a little out of place but still very grown up and special as I sipped my new cocktail... I thought about this as the kids looked at their new drink with wide eyes. Gabby drank two. Delighted was she! Bree nursed one all night long (she's just like me) and Jake sipped it, frowned and let it dribble out his mouth. He then played with the straw and cherry for a half hour.

There was a buzz in the restaurant with the diners voices mingling with the holiday music. I started to feel better. As I read Goodnight Moon to Bree and sipped my wine, the others slowly trickled in and we all greeted each other with the customary kiss on the right cheek. I like this custom. It felt awkward at first. But now as I have been here longer and have Guamanian friends this has become familiar. It feels delightfully warm and gracious to lean in and place your cheek against the soft cheek of another. Better than a handshake.

Later 23 men women and children were crowded around. The kids played with each other by running laps around the long table. Jacob joined in and started running around, his arms up in the air and his little feet going pitterpat. The presents were flowing off the table and onto the floor. The children were delighted. Food arrived just in time and we all dug in.

Then it happened. As the baby shoveled rice in his mouth, he got a little caught in his throat. He coughed and coughed and then John said the usual knowingly "uh oh" and he was right. It all came back up again. He just kept retching and the meal and fluids were literally splashing over everything. I was mortified. Not exactly the highlight of an office Christmas party and what you want at a nice restaurant. I looked around wildly and spied a nearby hurricane lamp. After I pulled out the candle and he finished the puking in the glass receptacle.

Later all cleaned up in new Christmas pajamas, I settled down and breathed a sigh of relief... ten minutes later he threw up all over again. Unbelievable. The wait staff, my boss and husband all hovered as I tried to keep his little face and vomit off his new pajamas. I hadn't brought two changes of clothing. Who could have predicted that?

He finally finished and I stood and rocked him, trying to settle him down. We were both a little weary. As the kids ate their ice cream and opened their new presents, I looked down; he'd fallen asleep. I looked around the table and saw that our little spectacle didn't seem to make a dent in the holiday spirit. Everyone laughed, drank wine and talked as the Christmas paper flew and gasps gave way to giggles. I settled back down in my chair. This time I didn't run off. We didn't go home. For the first time since I came to Guam, I felt like I was home.

Sheila Cason, MD