And it spells MEMORIES. Isn't it strange that at this time of year we remember Christmases past, and in my case, way way way past.
My Grandfather, on my Mother's side, lived with us when I was growing up. He was probably with us until I was 9 or 10 before he moved to Cleveland, Ohio, to live out his remaining days with my Aunt.
He was a carpenter by trade. (Remember my lighthouse lamp blog?) He made a, to me anyway, huge wooden star with lights that we hung out on our front porch every Christmas. We had a few lights, it was all we could afford.
Back then - remember way way way back - decorating didn't start until December. We celebrated Thanksgiving as Thanksgiving, not as a pre-Christmas dinner.
But off the beaten track. We did not have a car. We never had a car until I graduated from High School, went to work, and bought our first car, a little Ford.
So, of course we walked everywhere. My Dad, who was principle of North School in Martins Ferry Ohio, walked to school in the morning, walked home in the evening. We all walked to Church and back on Sunday. Us kids walked to school and back, even in high school. Buses did not pick up kids in town, just country kids
So what is the gist of this story?
I remember my mother baking and cleaning, getting the house just so. Getting ready for Santa. This was before I went to school, and learned there was NO Santa. I'm sorry, but I still believe in Santa Claus.
The house was clean. The baking done. It was Christmas Eve. We were sent off to bed. We slept in the upstairs, so the door was closed, it was hard to sleep, but we always did. In the morning rushing down the steps, we would stop and stare, for in the living room was the most beautiful tree, all decorated. It had not been there the night before. And around the tree and in the stockings we had hung, there were presents. Lots of presents. Of course that was in the eye of the kids. Each one of us would have 3 presents, one from Mom and Dad, and two, from Aunt Pat and Uncle Cas. (They lived in Cleveland, both worked, no kids). But because there were six of us, Mom, Dad, myself, sisters Ruth and Sylvia and Granddad, it looked like a mountain of presents to us.
We would look, eyes as big as saucers, grins from ear to ear. Look what Santa did! The only downside was that we were not allowed to open the presents until we had eaten breakfast. How awful.
Little did we know that earlier Christmas eve my Dad had walked to the nearest corner store and bought the tree, carried it home, remember we had no car, and left it in the basement until time to decorate.
My Mom and Dad would be up almost all night setting up the tree, trimming it, and puting the presents around it.
Can you imagine doing that now? I can't. It takes me all month to decorate, bake, wrap, ship, bake some more, wrap some more.
But for some reason it is this time of year that you remember what used to be, and are amazed at how it was. That is what memories are all about.
Take a little time just to remember, maybe with a laugh, maybe with a tear, but remember. Life was hard back then, but us kids never knew. It was just the way it was.
So enjoy your shopping, baking, cleaning, and decorating, and God Bless.
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