I don't know if there is any other time of year that makes me quite so nostalgic. Summer time always reminds me of the beach and band camp, and fall reminds me of ballgames and marching competitions. But there is something about Christmas that brings a flood of memories, and with them, emotions. I immediately began to daydream of the days when you could get a nice live tree at Marvin's for $10-15. My parents always waited until the week of, so it wouldn't dry out. We'd put all my craft ornaments I'd made at school on it. I remember a tissue paper poinsettia that I'm pretty sure Mom kept until my childhood home burned, after I was an adult. By the time I was a teen, and entrusted with the responsibility of trimming the tree (ie, the adults were too tired), that poinsettia looked a little dog eared, and a little dog chewed, too. I would many times in those later years, conveniently forget to put all my little handmade trinkets on the tree. By the way, this year, I too, utilized my teens when it was time for tree decorating. I remember the multi colored large bulb Christmas lights we had, and the plastic "candle" holders that held the same size bulbs. My grandparents and we both had that beaut sitting in the window, to beckon weary travelers. Or aunts, uncles, and cousins. Same thing, I thought. I would take those lovely plastic icicles that were hanging all over the tree, and stretch them over the colorful bulbs, until the silver strand melted and snapped in half. The tree was full of magic to a small girl in the late 70s and 80s. I would take my toys into the living room to play around the tree. Sometimes, I took one of those plastic, multi surfaced, silver balls off the tree, hang it in my Barbie case, and pretend it was a disco ball. I loved the smell of the fresh evergreen, and the soft glow of the lights. Actually, this girl still finds it pretty magical.
I remember church Christmas programs, with angels dressed in men's dress shirts and tinsel garland halos, singing around a plastic baby doll, I mean Jesus. I remember a suspiciously familiar Santa walking down the aisle and handing out candy to little kids, who were pretty sure they recognized his voice, but were still a bit mystified. I remember singing ALL the old Christmas hymns, out of the Broadman Hymnal. I still know most of the words, thanks to church, and Mrs. Polly Easterwood, my elementary school music teacher.
On Christmas Eve, I can remember my mother cooking all day, while I lounged about, playing. Then, unbeknownst to me at the time, she stayed up late into the night putting out Santa presents. If you're reading this, Mom, thank you. Now I get it. We would eat Christmas Eve dinner at my Granny and Granddad Smith's. My cousin Leann and I could hardly wait. We'd sneak deviled eggs from the table while the women were pouring tea and getting last minutes things out of the oven. At least, we thought we were sneaky. The food was always so good, and there was so much laughter. So many of those people are gone now, and that hurts. We'd open presents, and my sister, Tammy, and Uncle Bobby would exchange their yearly gag gifts that would leave us all laughing until we cried. It always seemed to be hot in that living room with all the body heat. There was a lot of us. Granny and Granddad only heated the rooms they were in at the time, but on that night, they brought a space heater into the room that would take that place from tundra to daytime desert in about five minutes. I can even remember the smell of the coils heating up on those things. As we would walk home (we lived next door), I would search the skies for any signs of Santa Clause. Any mysterious lights could certainly be him, and not a plane, right? After we got home, I'd lie on the couch, in the glow of the tree, and watch Claymation movies, and for many years, for reasons I'm still unsure of, one of the main TV stations played Charlotte's Web. One year in my teens, there was a Harry Connick, Jr Christmas special on, which of course, I was ALL about.
Christmas morning, I'd bound out of bed, and run to see what Santa left. Then I'd drag it into my exhausted parents' bed to show them. Boy, were they surprised and excited. Once the Santa jig was up, I'd still wake up fairly early for me, and very impatiently wait for everyone else to get up so we could open gifts. My parents always gave me the most wonderful gifts. In the afternoon, we'd go to my other Grandmother's. My mother's mother. And we'd have more delicious food, and open more gifts, and laugh some more. Since my mom's brother married my dad's sister, that set of cousins were at both celebrations, which made it even more fun. I can remember Christmases so warm, we'd play outside at Granny's without a coat. Looks like it will be that warm this Christmas, as well. Welcome to Christmas in Alabama.
With all our family members so spread out, and having our own kids, Christmas looks a lot different these days. We try to visit with everyone, but on Christmas, we stay home. We still have our colorful, hand made ornament laden, tree. I make deviled eggs, dressing, and Tammy's green stuff (lime congealed salad.) And I still search the skies on Christmas Eve.
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