Christmas of Yesteryear

There was a nice surprise in my neighborhood tonight as well as last night.  Usually every year the local fire truck will cruise through the streets with Santa on top, waving to everyone. This year Santa was in a lighted float, waving and yelling "Merry Christmas!" to everyone.  It was cool and heart-warming. 

Christmas holds so many great memories for me.  With the large number of kids in the house, our Christmas tree was packed with presents underneath.  The site was simply magical at night before bed or when we got up in the morning.  The tree glowed with each colored bulb, sagging with a variety of ornaments of all kinds, which all worked in conjunction to set off the wrapped surprises underneath. 

Every Christmas Eve we were able to open one package, which usually ended up being pajamas.  We put those on then quickly got comfortable to watch Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, or Charlie Brown's Christmas, which included all the Dolly Madison commercials.  We'd snack on Mom's Potato Candy, which tasted similar to a Mounds bar, or we would eat up some more cookies which we had iced in shades of blue, white, red or, brother Jay's speciality, camo.

After the shows we were sent to bed, where we tossed and turned and almost gritted our teeth with anticipation.  We'd finally fall asleep then waken ourselves with the mirage that it was morning, creeping downstairs to ask Mom if it was time yet.  It usually wasn't so we were sent back to bed but not before we had snuck in to the living room to take another peek at the glorious tree.

Just when we thought we would explode, the announcement was made that it was time to open our stockings.  Each of us had our own stocking that Grammie Eilene had made for us.  Mine with red with rick rack ribbon and for some odd reason my name was spelled incorrectly - Alecia.  We all ran over to the fireplace, where our stockings were bulging with the weight of goodies.  Underneath the mantle lay an assortment of cocoa packets, sugar cereal and Pop Tarts, which was an indulgence.  Grabbing our stockings, we then ran into our parent's bedroom, climbed on the bed, and began opening the stockings.  A variety of toys and goodies fell out, which usually included a Life Saver Christmas Book as well as a mandarin orange stuffed into the toe of the sock. 

At last it was time to attack the tree.  Usually Dad or an appointed sibling served as Santa, handing out gifts one at at time to everyone.  We waited patiently as we watched our brother, sister, or parent unwrap their gift.  We enjoyed every reaction, especially when it involved the gift we had given to them.  Would they like it?  Love it?  Laugh about it?  We went through this process for each and every gift, one at a time.  This seemed to take forever but we wallowed in every moment.  The feeling of enthusiasm about our Christmas gifts and simply spending time together is indescribable.

Life changed, parents divorced, siblings married, divorced, then married again, children then grandchildren were born.  But there is still that single thread of family and enthusiasm for Christmas that remains.  It's a time all of us still treasure and bring to our own households.  The one thing about my own children that continues to baffle me - how can they continue to oversleep on Christmas?  Every year I find myself channelling my childhood, waking up early and nudging my children awake so we can celebrate the best time of the year - Christmas.  Along with the Pop Tarts!

With this many people, how can you not have fun?