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When I was little, we would travel to my Gram’s house on Christmas Eve and celebrate Christmas with a delicious dinner, opening wonderful surprises and spending priceless amounts of time with family.
It was Christmas Eve and we were all getting ready to go to Gram’s house. My mom was looking for my boots, singing me that song that she always would sing to me (“Put your shoes on Lucy, don-cha know yur in the city”).
I was so excited and couldn’t wait to get into the car. The ride to Grammy’s on Christmas Eve was always so exciting for me and this year, it’s snowing. Snow is coming down like the biggest snowflakes you’d ever seen in your life. Close your eyes and picture them.
We’re in the car and we’re ready to go, so I thought we were. “Wait”, mommy says, “I forgot something.” She always forgets something on Christmas Eve. You know, I really don’t recall my brother being in the car with me but I know that he was. This was the adventure of a lifetime for a little girl. Daddy told me that we just might see Santa in his sleigh on the way to Grammy’s house. Mommy comes back and we’re off to Grammy’s house. She didn’t bring anything back with her though, maybe she forgot again and just decided to leave it.
As we’re driving, I’m gazing out the window in search of anything that would remotely resemble a reindeer, a sleigh, a chubby red and white suit; anything that appeared to be Santa. Whoa, daddy’s doing that again. My stomach just about jumped out of my body for a minute. “Daddy, stop it. I don’t like it when you do that.” I told him. He loved catching us by surprise when going over those little hills. It was fun, I’ll admit but I had to play along with him.
“Aren’t we there yet, daddy?” I asked. I knew we weren’t, but I was waiting so long and there was no sign of Santa; I was getting anxious for some excitement. “Oh, there he is. See him over there, honey?” Daddy was pointing out the window. I didn’t see anyone, not even a bird or a person. Was he fooling with me? I don’t know; all that I could do was believe my daddy saw Santa and I missed him…again, just like every other Christmas Eve. Humph
I wait for the strange little building that we always go by on the way to Grammy’s house. I just know that’s where Spock lives. Do you remember Spock, from the Starship Enterprise? We watched Star Trek everyday. I know that he must live in this funny little building, it just looks so strange. So, I’ll search for Spock now instead of Santa. Oh, here it is. Look at it, it sits down below the road and that big wire fence all around it must be protecting them from something. Inside the windows, I see all of the little lights but I don’t see any of them. Where are they all? Oh, there it goes. Nope, didn’t get to see Spock either. I suppose at least I can try tomorrow or the next day. At least I don’t have to wait a whole ‘nother year to see Spock.
Hey, if I make my eyes do this; all of the lights are so pretty. “Mommy, can you see the lights like this? Put your eyes like this, mommy, so you can see them. They’re so pretty like this. They’re almost like big colorful snowflakes.”
Yay, we’re finally here at Grammy’s house.
~Digging through the treasure of my memories brings back the feeling of anticipation and imagination in one little girl. Believe me, I was filled with it. I still am to this day. Christmas is a feeling I carry with me all year long and when the season for it finally approaches, it’s like I’m able to pull the inside out in decorations.
~I hope you enjoyed the adventure of riding to my Grammy’s on Christmas Eve with me. Oh…later on in life, I found out that mommy never forgot anything. She would say she did, in order to go back in the house and be Santa’s helper…before we got back home. All of the presents were opened on Christmas Eve at our house. What a great life for a little girl. I was truly blessed.
~ Simply Heather
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7 comments:
Lengthy for sure….but it sounds expected. Merriest and Blessed Christmas to you all, my friends!
When I was little, we would travel to my Gram’s house on Christmas Eve and celebrate Christmas with a delicious dinner, opening wonderful surprises and spending priceless amounts of time with family.
It was Christmas Eve and we were all getting ready to go to Gram’s house. My mom was looking for my boots, singing me that song that she always would sing to me (“Put your shoes on Lucy, don-cha know yur in the city”).
I was so excited and couldn’t wait to get into the car. The ride to Grammy’s on Christmas Eve was always so exciting for me and this year, it’s snowing. Snow is coming down like the biggest snowflakes you’d ever seen in your life. Close your eyes and picture them.
We’re in the car and we’re ready to go, so I thought we were. “Wait”, mommy says, “I forgot something.” She always forgets something on Christmas Eve. You know, I really don’t recall my brother being in the car with me but I know that he was. This was the adventure of a lifetime for a little girl. Daddy told me that we just might see Santa in his sleigh on the way to Grammy’s house. Mommy comes back and we’re off to Grammy’s house. She didn’t bring anything back with her though, maybe she forgot again and just decided to leave it.
As we’re driving, I’m gazing out the window in search of anything that would remotely resemble a reindeer, a sleigh, a chubby red and white suit; anything that appeared to be Santa. Whoa, daddy’s doing that again. My stomach just about jumped out of my body for a minute. “Daddy, stop it. I don’t like it when you do that.” I told him. He loved catching us by surprise when going over those little hills. It was fun, I’ll admit but I had to play along with him.
“Aren’t we there yet, daddy?” I asked. I knew we weren’t, but I was waiting so long and there was no sign of Santa; I was getting anxious for some excitement. “Oh, there he is. See him over there, honey?” Daddy was pointing out the window. I didn’t see anyone, not even a bird or a person. Was he fooling with me? I don’t know; all that I could do was believe my daddy saw Santa and I missed him…again, just like every other Christmas Eve. Humph
I wait for the strange little building that we always go by on the way to Grammy’s house. I just know that’s where Spock lives. Do you remember Spock, from the Starship Enterprise? We watched Star Trek everyday. I know that he must live in this funny little building, it just looks so strange. So, I’ll search for Spock now instead of Santa. Oh, here it is. Look at it, it sits down below the road and that big wire fence all around it must be protecting them from something. Inside the windows, I see all of the little lights but I don’t see any of them. Where are they all? Oh, there it goes. Nope, didn’t get to see Spock either. I suppose at least I can try tomorrow or the next day. At least I don’t have to wait a whole ‘nother year to see Spock.
Hey, if I make my eyes do this; all of the lights are so pretty. “Mommy, can you see the lights like this? Put your eyes like this, mommy, so you can see them. They’re so pretty like this. They’re almost like big colorful snowflakes.”
Yay, we’re finally here at Grammy’s house.
~Digging through the treasure of my memories brings back the feeling of anticipation and imagination in one little girl. Believe me, I was filled with it. I still am to this day. Christmas is a feeling I carry with me all year long and when the season for it finally approaches, it’s like I’m able to pull the inside out in decorations.
~I hope you enjoyed the adventure of riding to my Grammy’s on Christmas Eve with me. Oh…later on in life, I found out that mommy never forgot anything. She would say she did, in order to go back in the house and be Santa’s helper…before we got back home. All of the presents were opened on Christmas Eve at our house. What a great life for a little girl. I was truly blessed.
Christmas Eve
When I was growing up, my family was very close. My aunts and uncles all lived near-by and since we had the biggest house we almost always were the holiday hosts.
The things I remember most were the foods and the aroma’s that would fill the house. My grandmother would make ravioli form scratch. Dad covered the dining room table with a big sheet of plywood so nana could spread the flour and roll out the dough. The smell of the sauce filled the house. My mother would be surrounded by the smells oregano, basil and garlic as she prepared the meatballs, sausages and braciole. My family celebrated Christmas in a very traditional, Italian way; all this preparation was for Christmas day. For Christmas Eve it was tradition to eat fish. I remember helping Nana spoon the fresh ricotta cheese or sprinkling “just a bit of parsley” onto the mounds of cheese. Then she would cut strips to cover the soon to be raviolis. The last part was to seal them with a fork. So much care and love had to go into each one so they wouldn’t fall apart when she boiled them for tomorrows first course. It took hours to make the aromas lasted well into the evening. I could go no, but I’m getting hungry and I need to attend to new memories. Memories for my children.
@lensguysteve, I could almost hear an Italian accent as I read your writing :o).
Roast pheasant, shot by Daddy in a farmer's field outside town, Aunt Lila's Lady Baltimore cake heavy with fruit and nuts, and can't wait to see what Aunt Dee Dee and Uncle Happy have brought for my Christmas present - best of all the doll Nanna dressed in new clothes this year, all made by herself, I can feel, smell, see the love she uses to make my dollies' new clothes.
Nanna's special gifts, always something entirely unique and made by her, WERE Christmas. She always bought us a pile of new things from the local toy store and clothes from the department store where she worked, too, but the things she made for us were like no other kid's.
I still have a little wool coat Nanna made my Ginny dolls one year. It's dark, gray wool felt with red trim, a little hood, and pockets and red buttons. It's more precious that the most expensive toy you can buy a child today - it was made especially for me and my dollies by a grandma I knew beyond a shadow of doubt loved me more than words.
Trains and Planes--Christmas in the '40s
I love old steam trains and jet airplanes. Both were just coming into regular service in the late '40s, when I was still a kid, not even ten years old. Everyone still stopped and looked up at the jet trails in the sky, but no one paid much attention to the new diesel engines. Engines were still on the front of the train, and cabooses were on the rear. I had always wanted a model steam train.
Christmastime was special for the family. Although not devout churchgoers, my family (which included my grandma M who lived with us) was like most in the area, dependent upon the railroad for livelihood. I grew up with stories of adventure alongside the tracks where my dad and uncles had 'hitched' a freight to the West Coast (and Alaska) before the war to find work during the depression years. My uncles and he were borne off to fight WWII by the old steam engines. My grandpa P was an inspector for the old Illinois Central RR, whose tracks were not 100 yards in back of our house. The house shook as the GM&O Special sped by with its load of freight.
There were no TVs in our neighborhood yet, so the family gathered round the radio or the old Victor gramophone to listen to Christmas songs. Caroling was also popular and some Christmases we would be treated to a bunch of people who braved the cold to sing their carols, usually 'Silent Night' and 'Hark! The Herald Angels Sing. You know the kind. Before Bing Crosby's White Christmas. I was a teenager when that became 'the song'.
Anyway, the story of this particular Christmas morning foray was told to everyone on the morning of Christmas Day when my step-father (never called him dad, wish I would have and told him so later in life--he was a great guy who raised us the best way he could) told everyone what I had done the night before, after the tree was off. Everyone conserved electricity in those days, a carryover from the war effort.
My step-dad followed my tracks in the snow from the back door, where I had snuck out because the living room was 'sealed off at the french doors' early on. I had gone out the back basement door, around the side of the house to enter the front door, leaving a trail of boot tracks in the snow coming and going, tracking snow in all the while. Puddles of water where each boot stepped led to the tree, which was encircled by a beautiful little Lionel HO gauge model train. It smoked. It had a headlight. It had a whistle. Wow. I had a blast playing with it while eating Mars bars and cookies. I went out the front door when I was startled by a noise and went back to bed, where I'm sure I dreamed of a jet airplane, and next Christmas.
It's now 1:15am on Christmas Day as I remember this; having a glass of vanilla spice eggnog and piece of Cadbury chocolate as I write. They don't make Mars candybars anymore. Burp. Goodnight, and Merry Christmas! Oh, yes...I did get the jet airplane too!
Always honored to be here, Laura Jayne. Thank you!
Thank you Heather, for your creativity and your inspirations... your words are treasured.
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