Having spent my youth and
first 20 adult years in Austin, I equate brake lights on the highway during
bleak, rainy weather with Christmas. (Now you know what December is like in
Austin.) I got really excited driving home the other day because it was cold
and kind of drizzling and the roads were getting slick so everyone was driving
on their brakes. All I could think was, “Yay, Christmas is coming!” The minute
I got home, I put Christmas CDs in my car. J
This Christmas could be a
bummer because I had so many Christmas plans for Lucy#1 and me. I was looking
forward to us putting up a tree, singing along with the Christmas music,
decorating sugar cookies, baking chocolate pie, watching Christmas movies, and
just celebrating together all month long while we reminisced about Christmases
past and laughed over the good old stories and fun times.
Phooey.
But, I have decided to
refuse to let gloom overcome the joy of the season or the joy of Lucy#1. So,
I’m going to share some of the memorable Christmas moments our family has had
over the years, and I’m going to remember these moments and more when I miss Lucy#1 this Christmas season.
The first really
outstanding Christmas I remember, I was five. Lucy#1 made cookies and brownies
and fudge, and then, amazingly, on Christmas Eve no one policed my consumption
of those goodies. I ate all the cookies and brownies and fudge I could hold.
Yum!! I was in sugar-induced heaven . . . . right up until that moment in middle
of the night when those cookies started coming back up. I didn’t go straight
for the bathroom when I realized I was going to be sick – I headed for my mama
– so I tossed up those cookies right in front of my parents’s bedroom door. My
parents were thrilled, of course, and my daddy cleaned up the floor while my
mama cleaned up the kid. She put me in clean pajamas and they tucked me back
into my warm sugar-plum bed. I slept a little while, then, ruh-roh! More
cookies coming up! I went straight to the bathroom that time, but wasn’t fast
enough. Repeat prior activities by all. Then, wait half an hour and repeat.
Then, ditto, until I ran out of clean pajamas. My mother (who had apparently
peeked while Santa was there) went down and got me some nice, brand-new jammies
from under the tree. I don’t know how many times I have heard about me saying,
“Isn’t it good that Santa brought me new pajamas? It’s like he knew I would
need them tonight.” (In case you are wondering, I was never allowed free reign
at the Christmas goodies table again.)
The next huge Christmas
event in my memory concerns my sister. She was almost three. She loved her
Christmas gifts. She loved each of them so much that she had to be forced to
open the next one. First she saw toys from Santa. She started playing with one.
Mama and Daddy had to take it away from her and show her the next toy. She
played with that. I showed her a wrapped package. She opened it. It was a
little outfit. She put it on (without help, because she was fiercely
independent and wouldn’t allow anyone to assist her). Then we talked her into
opening the next gift. It was a book. She sat down to “read” it. It took her
what felt to me like h-o-u-r-s to open her gifts. Each year, someone would
mention that Christmas morning, and our whole family would chuckle about how
cute she was and how appreciative of every gift.
Our first Christmas in
Germany was amazing. We lived in a little German town, upstairs from a
wonderful German couple and their youngest son. They invited us to join them
for their Christmas Eve celebration. Most of their children were grown with
families of their own, and they all came over. The house was packed with
people, all speaking German (which, by the way, sounds really rowdy if you don't understand it)! We all sang Christmas carols (not all in the same
language). Neighbors came by to visit and have a cookie and/or a drink. (They
had really good cookies, although I was allowed to eat only a few.) I’d never
seen a madhouse of activity like that! What crazy Christmas joy spilling over
onto everyone! We joined them every Christmas Eve while we were in Germany, and it was a fantastic night every year.
The Christmas I was 11,
Santa brought my dad a race car set. Whoooeeeee! We all enjoyed those race
cars! A young couple (in their early 20s) who lived next door
came over for Christmas dinner, and we all raced those cars all day long (and
for years afterward).
The first year Freddy
joined us for Christmas was a hoot. Freddy is from Columbia; he was attending
Texas A&M and worked where Lucy#1 worked. He couldn’t go home for
Christmas, so he joined our family for the day. My sister and I (in our 20s at
the time) adopted him as the brother we never had, and roped him into all our crazy
Christmas traditions and activities. We ended up playing Monopoly that afternoon.
Freddy was not familiar with the game and didn’t feel comfortable playing, so
he offered to be our Banker. He found out all about us that day! I doubt the
bank was actually robbed, but I think there may have been a lot of wheeling,
dealing, wheedling, and whining in addition to other Monopoly shenanigans, and
possibly some boasting and jeering. I’m pretty sure Freddy thought our whole
family was nuts, but he came back every year. (We didn’t subject poor Freddy to
Monopoly again, but he did play some pretty cut-throat Uno with us through the
years!)
My first Christmas in
Oklahoma City, Lucy#1, my sister, and my nephew came up to spend Christmas with
me. We had so much fun! Since I had come to OKC from the mountains of
New Mexico, where I lived in a solar-powered house with a woodstove in the
living room as the only heat source, I was used to much cooler temperatures
(inside as well as outside) than was my poor family, and it never occurred to
me that 64 degrees was not the perfect indoor temperature. I did notice they
were wearing sweaters while I was in lightweight clothing, but hey! Lucy#1 was always cold, even in
the summertime, and Susan was enjoying wearing her Christmas sweaters, right? And my
nephew did stay snuggled up on the couch with an afghan, but golly, he was a
kid and had his game boy or whatever and I love to snuggle up with a book -– same
thing, right? Well . . . . no. I was
wrong on all counts. After they were safe and warm back in Texas, my sister told
me that she and Lucy#1 had considered offering to pay my electric bill if I
would just turn the heat on!!
I haven’t put my Christmas
tree up yet, but that’s on my weekend to-do list. I’ll pull out the old Andy
Williams Christmas CD, and Billboard’s top Christmas songs, and maybe something
really fun like the soundtrack to the Christmas program John Denver did with
the Muppets. Or maybe my Twisted Christmas CDs. (Did you know that House of the Rising Sun works perfectly
with the tune to Oh Little Town of Bethlehem?
Try it. You’ll see. There is a house in
New Orleans . . . . Really, it works!)
I’ll sing Christmas songs
at the top of my lungs while I decorate, then I’ll admire my handiwork and
toast Lucy#1 with some hot chocolate. I’ll miss her, but at the same time I’ll
see her in all my Christmas memories. That works, too.
Very sweet! No references to Pepper or the red lights?=)
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness! I completely forgot about Pepper! I'll have to write a new post!!
Delete