The Magic of Christmas Memories...

[Sunshine73]

...or, Why I want to go back to the kid's table .

(I didn't intend to write an essay, just to share some Christmas memories...sorry it got so long)

In my Christmas musings today, I decided to google some Christmas pictures and came across some really vintage Christmas photos. People frozen in time, with bad hair and dated clothing, standing in front of Christmas trees and fireplaces, documenting the happy family moment for years to come.

It was then that I realized how incredibly badly I want to return my own own "frozen moment". My family (mainly my mother) wasn't big on taking pictures (I think she was so depressed most of the time that she couldn't imagine wanting to preserve any memories) so there aren't a lot of visual records of that time period but I don't need the visuals...those moments are preserved in my mind as real and as clearly as if they'd happened only five minutes ago, not twenty-five years ago.

For the most part, my life as a child wasn't a happy one. My mother suffered from severe mental illness that prevented her from being the mother that I'm sure she wanted to be, my father took off for parts unknown, my step-father was horribly abusive and my younger siblings all looked to me to take care of them. The day to day in my life was horrible, but Christmas...Christmas was different. Christmas meant going to grandma's house.

I remember walking into grandma's house on Christmas Eve, the smell of all good things cooking would hit me the minute we walked in the door. Grandma's tree, covered in ornaments that had been handed down from generations past, would be twinkling in front of the big picture window in her livingroom, a few packages already waiting to be opened underneath.

I remember the way grandma looked, before she got too old, before the Parkinson's disease robbed her of her ability to be "grandma". The way she'd come and greet us all at the door, usher us all inside and offer us a drink and a cookie. I remember how, on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, she always carried the faint scent of vanilla mixed with sage mixed with turkey and a million other comfortable kitchen smells.

I remember how she used to construct her village using a variety of card tables and end tables and how magical that Christmas village always looked to me. I remember the corner of the livingroom, nearest to the kitchen, being cleared to make room for a card table filled with goodies. Bowls of big walnuts with her silver nutcracker sitting on top, boxes of assorted chocolates (which would all end up with fingernail pokes in the bottom as everyone tested to be sure they were getting the piece they wanted), and platters of cookies. She never yelled at us for eating too many sweets or for getting the crumbs on the floor, after all, that's what kids do and that's what Christmas is all about.

I remember how she would scout the TV Guide and tell us what Christmas specials were on that night and she would make sure that we got to watch them, and she'd watch them with us. No doubt she loved watching Charlie Brown discover the meaning of Christmas as much as we did.

I remember going to bed on Christmas Eve...grandma's house wasn't big (although, as a youngster it seemed like a mansion) so some of us had to sleep in the livingroom. I didn't mind. I would fall asleep, listening to the sounds of my mom, my grandmother and my aunt all sitting around the kitchen table, having a good chat and watching the lights on the Christmas tree dance on the surface of all the antique glass ornaments.

I remember waking up on Christmas morning to the sounds of my grandmother in the kitchen at 4:00 am, putting the turkey in the oven and getting the meal preparation started. I wonder if she ever went to bed on Christmas Eve. I would wake up slowly, savoring the "Christmas morning" feeling. I can still see the way the winter sun light came in through the huge window in front of the tree and bounced off the ornaments, making the tree look as though it were surrounded by a magical white light. The pile of gifts under the tree would have grown significantly overnight...proof that Santa had come. He had managed to find us at grandma's house (I was always secretly worried that Santa would forget that we weren't at home).

I remember grandma making chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, complete with Hershey's syrup and whipped topping to go on top. It was like waking up in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and it was great! Mostly, I remember that my grandmother and my aunt would take out the can of Reddi Whip and squirt a mouthful directly into our mouths...my mother disapproved but they thought it was great fun...so did I!

Then, everyone would gather round the tree to open gifts. Someone would play Santa and pass around the gifts and we would all open them, exclaiming our thanks to those who had been so generous, expressing our delight and the conviction that whatever it was we had just received was exactly what we had wanted most. I remember my grandmother would barely sit still long enough to open her gifts, she was constantly jumping up to go check on the food that was already starting to fill the house with that wonderfully delicious Christmas smell. She used to stand in the doorway between the kitchen and the livingroom, watching the proceedings with a wooden spoon in her hand before she dashed back to the stove to check, stir or season another pot.

Once the gifts were all opened, I would settle in to watch and wait. It was like the house itself knew that something big was about to happen and the air would be heavy with anticipation. Finally, I would spot a car coming down the road, then another. Family. My aunts, uncles and cousins would all pile into the house. Some of my cousins lived so far away that I rarely saw them except at Christmas, some of us just didn't keep in touch the way we should have, but no matter. Christmas was different. There was a lot of hugging, laughter and another exchange of gifts as the new arrivals got settled in.

I remember that my cousins and I would go into the kitchen to "help" my grandmother. I realize now that several 5-9 year olds could not have been much help, but she never complained and always found a job for everyone. I could usually be found ripping bread into a huge bowl for grandma's dressing. Why didn't I ever bother to ask her for the recipe? No matter. I doubt she even had a recipe: a bit of this, a dash of that, a handful of something else...I remember the heavenly smell of sage and onion filling the house. To this day, sage reminds me of the holidays in a way that many other, more traditional, smells don't.

After everything was done that could be done, us kids would go sit in the livingroom and talk. We would compare gifts but not in a competitive, "see what I got" kind of a way, more like a "isn't that cool?" kind of a way. We would share stories and catch up on what we'd missed in each other's lives, while the adults were gathered in the kitchen doing the same.

Eventually grandma would announce that dinner was done and everyone would crowd into the kitchen for a simple blessing and to fill their plates. Like most families, there wasn't enough room for everyone around the kitchen table (even with the extra leaves) so we kids were put at the coffee table in the livingroom. We would all sit on the floor, legs tucked under the table and eat until we just couldn't eat anymore.

I remember sitting at the kids table, like kids do, thinking about how much I wanted to sit at the adult table. The older I got, the more it chafed to have to sit on the floor in the livingroom with the "kids"...I wanted so badly to be in with the "adults" that I never stopped to think about what that would mean.

Of course, now I'm 33 years old and I do sit with the adults because I am one of the adults...a set of adults that is radically different from the one that I remember as a child. All the people who made Christmas so special for me as a child are not at the adult table with me...they had to move on to make room for me to have that coveted spot at the adult table. My grandmother, my grandfather, my great-grandmother and two of my uncles are gone. My cousins are scattered to the wind and I'm lucky to get an e-mail once a year letting us know how they're doing. My one remaining aunt still tries to touch base at Christmas but it's getting more difficult as she's so busy with her own family (she was the youngest of the siblings and started her family late in life), so now there's plenty of room at the adult table and all I want to do is go back. I want to go back to that moment in time when I was 8 years old, sitting at the kids table, laughing with my cousins, warm and secure in the love of my family, the gentle conversation and laughter from the adult table washing out over us as we sat in the glow of the Christmas light streaming in the window.

Life goes in cycles though. I'm at the adult table now with all four of my siblings and my mother. And we, too, have a kids table. It's a small one for now, occupied by my four nephews, who stare in wide-eyed wonder at the lights on the Christmas tree, who want desperately to help cook Christmas dinner, who sit on the floor with their legs tucked under the table, laughing and eating until they can't eat anymore...warm and secure in the love of their family and the gentle coversation and laughter from the adult table washing over them as they sit in the glow of the Christmas light streaming in the window.

I hope that I can convince them to cherish their time at the kid's table.

[JayIsh]

Well...Thanks for making me sit at my desk, at work, with tears in my eyes. That was beautiful...and I could see my own Grandmother's living room, and our own celebrations and our own memories in your story...Brilliant!!! Just brilliant!

Jay

[JOHNOR]

fantastic, you have made me cry! what a wonderful writer, you have such a talent. thank you so much for sharing that with us.

[sugarplum fairy]

Well, there goes my make-up! Thanks a lot!!

That was wonderful.

[Chillywilly]

This was just awesome to read. So heart felt. You have very good talent at writing. It takes me back to my childhood. I come from a very large family. I have 6 brothers and 6 sisters. At Christmas time at my mothers will always be treasured in my mind and my heart. I two can remember the great smells coming from the kitchen of my mothers. She made the best dressing I've ever eaten. We always had large turkey and ham with all of the trimmings.

You can image having 12 brothers and sisters with all of their children and spouses. It was one large gathering to share. Their was always gifts for everyone and plenty of food as well. We sang songs together at the piano. Carol after Carol. The house was decorated from the front to the back of the home. The fireplace was lit and the stocking were hanging there as well. The scent of cinnamon and spices went through out the home. I will always cherish this memory and I will continue to share with my children and my grandchildren alike. So thanks for sharing your holiday with us, because it reminds me of mine. Thanks

[Sunshine73]

Thanks to everyone for reading my memories and for your very kind comments. I was afraid that I'd rambled on like an idiot for far too long but the words just kept coming and I needed to get them out. Thank you all for "listening".

[Billy Battles]

Very Moving

[Merry Sage]

Beautifully written Sunshine!

[JOHNOR]

chillywilly your memories sound wonderful, there is nothing nicer than a traditional family christmas.

[Rennabelle]

I am real touched with your story. It does bring back lots of memories of my Grandmother. Not necessarily at Christmas as I don't remember Christmas with her. But all the other times of the year at her house. Grandpa was a dairy man and I remember going to the milk shed to get cream for Grandma and she would make her own butters. We always had hot oatmeal with our breakfasts with a daub of fresh butter and always had warm cream with it. She always made big breakfasts to go with the oatmeal also. Her house always smelled of hot cookies coming out of the oven. mmmmmmmm Boy do I miss the times with my Grandma.

Chilly, I will do one better, I have 7 brothers and 7 sisters. I am number 14, the one younger than me is my sis Marva. We are very close. As my brothers and sisters left home I didn't get to see them to much as they had made their own traditions at their homes for the holidays and lived all over the place. When they left , it seemed like our family got smaller and smaller.

I don't have to many Christmas memories of when I was growing up but the ones I do have are very special. We didn't have much and Mom made things special as she could with what she had. We always lived by the woods and would always go out after our tree, we would take hot cocoa and look for that very special tree. I guess that is why today I love going out to find that special tree with my children and Grandchildren. It brings back memories of my childhood days with my mom.