December 20,
2013
Followed a semi full of rolled and tied
Christmas tress, bumping along the highway, slowing down the terrific traffic.
Reminds me of the Charlie Brown Christmas trees we always had, Taelor and I,
from Norfolk pine plants, to Palm trees in Hawaii to Christmas
cacti with ornaments weighing down the branches. I don’t have a tree this year,
wasn’t in the plan for last year in Brasil. the year before that I was renting
a room and that house was minus a tree as well.
In my Middle and High School years, we obtained
our family Christmas trees from the Middle School across the street when Winter
Break started. My mom collected them for the needy families and we nabbed one for
our front room as well. As little children, we marched into the woods,
following dad with an ax over his shoulder like Paul Bunyan, to choose just the
perfect tree, that may have a slight lean to one side. He hacked away at it,
and down it went with loud squeals of excitement from the little mob of a
family crowded around.
We weren’t a
sit-on-Santa’s-lap-and-take-a-picture-at-the-Mall kind of family, so we avoided
that fiasco. Memories of Christmas’ past with the family are blurry and unkempt.
Far too early parental awakenings led to opening gifts Christmas Eve. I vaguely
recall those Christmas mornings or the scenes that followed jumping on the
parents in their bed. One present stands out-a dog robot that walked and it’s
eyes lit-up when the switch was turned on. I adored that gift. It came with a
leash and collar. I walked it everywhere, an attentive and responsible owner.
Our traditional Italian meal, a day-long
preparation, home-made pasta strung on wire hangers around the kitchen, marinara
sauce bubbling on the stove. Hunks of bread were dunked, sneaking samples of
grandma’s famous recipe throughout the day. Home-made delectable pasta with
to-die-for marinara sauce, scrumptious cannoli, mom’s famous meatballs (I was a
meat-eater back then,) and crusty rolls were greedily consumed before the
rituals began.
Singing Christmas carols around the house,
some of us laden with the nativity scene characters, including the cow, donkey
and lambs, that strode along, though mute as stones, part of our Christmas Eve
ordeal. I think candles were also involved. We resisted the tradition, in later
years, but mom persisted so we sang and rolled our eyes back into our heads at
one another a lot.
Typically starting from the youngest to the
oldest, we opened our gift, handing the present from the person sitting next to
the tree, to the recipient. No gifts really stand out in my mind yet the sensation
of family togetherness is powerful. Although Taelor and I have a very different
tradition, we continue to honor our time alone and cherish the years we have as
a family. It’s a Wonderful Life or another classic movie will be viewed, snuggled
on the couch Christmas Eve.
It had been three years since we arranged the North
Pole Series Village. The little houses light-up, reindeer pull the sleigh with
Santa aboard, and little people have fun among the festive snow-tipped trees. A
jolly scene.
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