Only 6 more 'sleeps'......
Only 6 more 'sleeps' 'til Christmas! A childish notion, but then I still sleep in glow-in-the-dark space bear pajamas. No one should be surprised.
As I reflect, Christmas brings up such good childhood memories:
-The garish tree full of handmade ornaments that only a mother could love. (my favorite is still the styrofoam ball with a pipecleaner hook covered in stickers that I made in kindergarten- it finally grew too brittle to put on the tree this year)
-Watching all the old favorite movies with my Dad: "It's a Wonderful Life", "Rudolph", "Frosty", and "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" (the original cartoon with the pathetic but cute dog).
-The 3 hour drive to Grama's with Christmas carols blasting and Dad singing all the way in our old van.
-Staying up late making mincemeat tarts and chocolates with Grama (sneaking sips of sherry that should have gone in the tarts) while Bing Crosby movies played in the background.
-Giggling with my brother in the 3rd floor attic bedroom of Grama's old house, straining to hear sounds of Santa on the roof just above.
-Coming down the stairs to a sea of presents that seemed to never end. Of course my parents would tell you they would last right through until February when I was really young- I would play with one toy until I was tired of it before opening anything else.
-The one year when my brother had started to doubt the reality of a Santa Claus- until he found the reindeer harness on the lawn in the morning and REAL soot all over the carpet in the living room. I still wonder how Dad talked Mom into that one on her nice cream coloured carpets.
-A multitude of Christmas dinners over the years.....wearing the silly little paper crowns that came in the Christmas crackers. The wishbone from the turkey. Plum pudding with real English custard.
-Christmas would last the whole 2 weeks off from school.....and it seemed to stretch on forever. And it always snowed. I can't remember a year that wasn't a White Christmas.
Of course, I view these years through the rose coloured glasses of memory, but they instilled in me the Christmas spirit that I will carry with me always. I still decorate my tree in the same garish ornaments, adding to them over the years (including the "snowman-with-the-bell-up-his-ass"....don't ask.), but remembering each year as I remove them from the box the stories of their origin. I still make mincemeat tarts and watch Bing Crosby movies, and still steal sips of the sherry (just on principle of course), although now I share this tradition with my mother, and we remember the loved ones who have moved on. I still get excited by a sea of brightly wrapped presents under the tree, even though it is my turn to do the wrapping. I still take forever to open presents...just ask anyone. I'd drag it out until February still if they'd let me. We still wear the silly paper hats....although they usually don't last more than the first course. I still get competative over the wishbone, and savor my plum pudding with real English custard. And this year it snowed to rival the years in my childhood.
Each year some of the old memories are replaced by new ones, but the spirit of years gone by lives on. The cumulative effect of over 30 years of Christmas magic keeps the season alive. And yes I still believe there is a Santa Claus....
...except his name is "Just Because".
As I reflect, Christmas brings up such good childhood memories:
-The garish tree full of handmade ornaments that only a mother could love. (my favorite is still the styrofoam ball with a pipecleaner hook covered in stickers that I made in kindergarten- it finally grew too brittle to put on the tree this year)
-Watching all the old favorite movies with my Dad: "It's a Wonderful Life", "Rudolph", "Frosty", and "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" (the original cartoon with the pathetic but cute dog).
-The 3 hour drive to Grama's with Christmas carols blasting and Dad singing all the way in our old van.
-Staying up late making mincemeat tarts and chocolates with Grama (sneaking sips of sherry that should have gone in the tarts) while Bing Crosby movies played in the background.
-Giggling with my brother in the 3rd floor attic bedroom of Grama's old house, straining to hear sounds of Santa on the roof just above.
-Coming down the stairs to a sea of presents that seemed to never end. Of course my parents would tell you they would last right through until February when I was really young- I would play with one toy until I was tired of it before opening anything else.
-The one year when my brother had started to doubt the reality of a Santa Claus- until he found the reindeer harness on the lawn in the morning and REAL soot all over the carpet in the living room. I still wonder how Dad talked Mom into that one on her nice cream coloured carpets.
-A multitude of Christmas dinners over the years.....wearing the silly little paper crowns that came in the Christmas crackers. The wishbone from the turkey. Plum pudding with real English custard.
-Christmas would last the whole 2 weeks off from school.....and it seemed to stretch on forever. And it always snowed. I can't remember a year that wasn't a White Christmas.
Of course, I view these years through the rose coloured glasses of memory, but they instilled in me the Christmas spirit that I will carry with me always. I still decorate my tree in the same garish ornaments, adding to them over the years (including the "snowman-with-the-bell-up-his-ass"....don't ask.), but remembering each year as I remove them from the box the stories of their origin. I still make mincemeat tarts and watch Bing Crosby movies, and still steal sips of the sherry (just on principle of course), although now I share this tradition with my mother, and we remember the loved ones who have moved on. I still get excited by a sea of brightly wrapped presents under the tree, even though it is my turn to do the wrapping. I still take forever to open presents...just ask anyone. I'd drag it out until February still if they'd let me. We still wear the silly paper hats....although they usually don't last more than the first course. I still get competative over the wishbone, and savor my plum pudding with real English custard. And this year it snowed to rival the years in my childhood.
Each year some of the old memories are replaced by new ones, but the spirit of years gone by lives on. The cumulative effect of over 30 years of Christmas magic keeps the season alive. And yes I still believe there is a Santa Claus....
...except his name is "Just Because".
posted by sandboxtoy at 10:11 PM
1 Comments:
awwww....Just Because is just as good as Santa....
Merry Christmas Sandy!
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