Like Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ novella, “A Christmas Carol,” ghosts from Christmas Past visit me while I’m working preparing food ahead for our holiday meal. I think about the loved ones who live only in my memories.
During the years I believed in Santa Claus, I had to take Mom’s place helping Dad do the Christmas Eve chores. Although I couldn’t milk a cow by hand like she did, I could do small tasks such as dumping some milk into a dish for the cats that lived in the barn. While we worked, Dad heard Santa’s sleigh bells. When I returned to the house through the back door, Mom was busy in the kitchen preparing supper for Aunt Frannie, Uncle Hookie, and their grown daughters, Doris and Sis, who would join us to eat and open presents. I checked the decorated tree standing in the living room and was excited to see my wrapped gifts left by the ‘Jolly Old Elf’, who had entered by the front door.
For our first Christmas together, Ken and I bought an expensive, 35 mm camera as our joint gift. I was pregnant with our first baby who would arrive in February. Daddy wanted to be ready to take outstanding pictures of our family. Spending the day at his parents’ house with his extended family, which included his sister’s six, young children tired me out. I wondered how I would handle motherhood.
After several years of my family’s going to my parents for Christmas Eve supper, I took over preparing the meal. It seemed easier than packing up our three little ones and our gifts to return home after an evening at Grandpa and Grandma’s.
For a brief moment in my thoughts, we’re young parents crawling out of bed when we hear Linda, Lisa and Kurt giggling while coming down the stairs early Christmas morning to see what Santa left. It seems like we just went to sleep after assembling their toys.
Our off-spring became adults and I see three people in uniform while I juggle police schedules to plan a Christmas meal. We added a daughter-in-law and two grandkids. Then, those two grew up and enlarged our group again.
This year, our family will come together December 26. The time is compatible with a police schedule and the other sides of the family. It’s the people who make the holiday memorable, not the date on the calendar.
Who are your ghosts of Christmas Past?
Loved reading this Lolita, thank you and Merry Christmas 🎅☃️🎄
Here are eight memories that I have of past Christmas times:
1. My former husband, Bill Nigbor, died in March so my cleaning lady, Sue Wedveck, ask me if she & her family could accompany me to my church on the following Christmas Eve. Of course, I said yes to such a kindness.
2. When Janice & I were very young, all four of our family went to the barn to milk & feed the cows. Mother sneaked up to the house so Santa could come during that time. (Something like your experience Lolita.
3. One year when Janice and I were a bit older, we found our gifts ahead of time upstairs!
4. The years when I was married to Karl, & he was stationed various placed in the US. We would be driving back to Wisconsin from F. Riley, KS, or Ft. Monmouth, N.J., or Washington D.C., etc.
5. There was the year when the kids & I were living in Madison so for Christmas Day, we drove to the farm, picked up mother & dad, & drove through blowing snow & drifts to have our holiday.
6. I remember one year when the kids & I were going to Walworth to be with Janice & B, & we stopped at Lake Geneva to downhill ski at the Playboy hill.
7. There was the Christmas when my son Marc came home from California with a girl friend who was a vegetarian, & didn’t warn me ahead of time.
8. The year was 1975, & Janice invited my estranged husband, Karl, for Christmas Eve. This was bad enough, but I had to give Janice’s kids my son Marc’s used trucks for gifts because I was too poor to buy new gifts.