The Way I Remember It...

Every Christmas night since forever, I’ve always been blessed enough to sit around somebody’s fireplace. After the whirlwind of gifts are opened and I’ve almost caught the house afire burning amazon boxes and wrapping paper in the fireplace. After the kids have retreated to their rooms to tinker with their Santa loot. I always find something good to drink. What I drink depends on how many folks I’ve had go in and out of my house during the holidays, how many political conversations I’ve endured and how many times I’ve had to get out the mop bucket. A few years ago we had about fifty eleven people here for Christmas. Our housekeeper who was far more than a housekeeper to us had fallen on difficult times and she was living with us along with her two small children. We had in total about 12 people sleeping here that Christmas Eve. As many as 18 the days before. That year- Russian tea didn’t cover it. Needed a nip of peppermint schnapps in my wassail and some Bailey’s in the egg nog! It was a wonderful Christmas though. It’s funny how hard we try to create Christmas memories for kids, when the things kids remember are very seldom things at all. My most vivid Christmas memories are these:
*When I was a little girl my daddy owned a lumber yard. He also sold Christmas trees, or I guess he did. Anyhow, when my teacher asked if anyone could donate a Christmas tree to the classroom I shot out of my chair at the blue square table so fast I’m sure it scared the chalk off the blackboard. Several kids volunteered and the teacher said whoever brought one first. I don’t even know what my daddy had to do to get that tree to my elementary classroom early the next morning but he did and I have never forgotten it. I thought I was something else and I ranked my Daddy right up under the sweet baby Jesus. I’m 42 years old and I still do.
*I think I was in 2nd grade when our house burned on Christmas Eve. I don’t remember being sad about presents at all. What I do remember is that Ms Gay Martorell, my 2nd grade teacher brought me a blue sweater vest and a plaid shirt. I can tell you exactly what that sweater looked like. If I was any kind of artist I could draw you the exact stitching. That’s how vividly I remember it.
*Daddy used to load up our whole family, extended family too, in his big blue delivery truck. He covered the floor with hay and we all caroled around Hartwell. I could barely see over the side rails but I can remember being so cold in the north Georgia night, I’d burrow myself in the hay and fall asleep with visions of Santa, reindeer, and Hershey kisses in my head.
*I remember Gail Brown singing Watchman Tell Us of the Night at The First Presbyterian Church on Christmas Eve so beautifully that it captivated the attention of a kid who was delirious with Santa excitement.
*I remember Ms Beverly Dove and Ms Hope Williams teaching our 4th grade class to sing What Child is This for our Christmas program at school. I still have the mimeographed copy in Ms Dove’s handwriting.
*I don’t know how far back in my daddy’s Family the tradition goes but when he was a kid he got stockings from Santa in REAL nylons. Like real panty hose weighted down to the floor with oranges and cracker jacks. My brother and I used to drag those things around clear through January. We always got them growing up and now my kids get them even though they’re weighted down with Reese’s cups and snickers bars now.

Mama says some Christmases were plentiful and some were tight. So funny how as a child I couldn’t tell the difference. I’m more thankful tonight for good Christmas memories than I am for any material thing I had then or have now.

5am

Last night I fell into bed exhausted. The kind of exhausted only family christmases can bring. But no matter how tired I am the night before, I am always awake by 5am. The house is so quiet and within an hour or two the mayhem will return. That’s why I love 5am. I can hear the 120 pound dog snoring on the floor next to my bed. And even though he gets excited and gallops through the house like a dang racehorse, even though he chewed up Christmas gifts, air hockey pucks, Christmas lights, and half of an Italian Creme cake, I am so thankful that big lug found his way into our lives. Right now he’s dreaming as he does almost every night. His legs are moving like he’s running and he barks in this low muffled tone. I always wonder what he’s chasing in his dreams.  I think it’s probably Ali. There’s a light coming underneath my bedroom door which tells me the 3 amigos left the kitchen lights on last night. I can’t be upset because I’m just thankful cousins have this time together even if it means screaming squealing and running in the house, frosting on cabinet doors and a dishwasher running nonstop.  Pete’s sound asleep next to me and in a few minutes he’ll roll over and say honey put that damn phone away and go back to sleep even though in the previous 20 years together I’ve never gone back to sleep. Today I’ll let him sleep a little later. I can hear the hardwood floors creak upstairs. My inlaws are here for the holidays. They will soon be here permanently. I couldn’t be more thrilled. Don’t get me wrong. They are crazy, REALLY Baptist, old fashioned, stubborn, hard headed and sometimes fussy in a way that only those around 70 years old can be.  But I’ve come to realize that I’m crazy, Episcopalian, old fashioned, stubborn and fussy in a way that only mothers around 40 can be. So we have a lot in common. They love my children and I know there’s nothing short of their last breath they’d give us if we needed it.  Most all the adults worked most of the day clearing the little patch of woods next to our house where they’ll build their house soon. My mama helped clear brush, set herself on fire twice and still managed to feed us all not just supper but supper with broccoli casserole, mashed potatoes that didn’t come from a box, and a beef roast that she fretted over being over cooked all during dinner. That’s about as southern grandma as it gets and they live 513 steps from our front door. You really don’t get any luckier than us. 

Merry Christmas everyone! From our house of 4 chihuahuas, 1 Great Dane, one elusive big gray cat, 8 People, and a missing air hockey puck. From our house to yours..May you find happiness and see all the blessings in the midst of the mayhem of the next few days. If you can’t, try it at 5am, while still lying in bed. You’ll be surprised what you hear in silence.