Christmas and Me

Thanks to April for the inspiration on this one. In her blog this weekend, she talked about the many traditions she and her family have for Christmas and what some of her childhood Christmas traditions were as well. This got me to thinking about my own childhood Christmases and how much it's changed and evolved over the years. So if ya'll don't mind, I'm going to wax poetic about Christmas and me. Besides. My weekend was spent on the couch with the remote listening to rain. I hardly think ya'll want to read about that, right?

So Christmas...

Christmas was something my parents were always wonderful at. No matter how poor we were or how little we had it was always a fun and special time of the year. From baking cookies, to decorating Christmas trees to everything in between.

Up until we were in high school, our family always had live trees. It was a tradition that every year, two weeks before Christmas, Daddy would trek into the woods and chop down a cedar tree and haul it home. We would, of course, have to totally rearrange the living room, shifting furnature around and blocking the front door, just to get it in. This was our job while he was out chopping. Mama would get us all in there and we would get the tree stand out and set it up on top of a sheet. How funny it must have looked to anyone watching seeing these three little girls and their mama tugging and pushing a couch from one side of the room to the other.

Then Daddy would come in with his loot and we would ooo and ahhh at the tree he'd picked out. He always seemed to be able to find the prettiest and fullest tree. Inevitably a slew of cursing would ensue as he wrestled the tree into the stand and trimmed it so that it wouldn't brush the ceiling. And then another slew of cursing as he and mama fought over how to string the lights. Ah, but then...then the fun part. Once the tree was in the stand and lit, it was our turn to decorate the sucker.

Now, we've never been a family for fancy ornaments. Back then they mostly consisted of either plastic cheapies or homemade. My mama and granny were wickedly talented at making ornaments. Crosheted or otherwise. And of course we always tossed those plastic "icecycles" on there. Daddy used to always go behind me and fix mine, of course, because I used to just grab handfulls of the things and toss 'em. Hey, I was a kid. I didn't have time to go through and individually sprinkle them.

Sometimes my grandparents would join in the decorating and sometimes our Aunt Nell (an honorary aunt) would come and join us. I especially loved those times because they always made such a big deal about what a good job we'd done in decorating. Then we would all gather in front of the tree and whoever was there would take a family picture of us all. For years, those Christmas tree pictures were the only family pictures we had.

And then there was the Christmas pageant at church. Each year, our old home church used to put on a play. Not a musical contata as is so popular these days, but we would act out the story of Christmas. Most years I was an angel. I've worn many a tensil halo and white sheet in my day, let me tell you. I was about 10 or so the first time I had a speaking part though. It was the Christmas when the Martians learned about Christmas. (This was the story of the play. Martians came to Earth the night Christ was born and followed Jesus from birth until He died on the cross.) I was an angel and my part was "Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be unto all people." Sis2 and I were both angels that year. Then after the play, we'd light candles and sing. It was a special, beautiful and warm part of Christmas. I miss those days, for certain.

Christmas Eve was always a really special time, too. For years, Christmas Eve was spent at one or the other of my grandparents' house. It just depended on who asked for Christmas Day first. Either Daddy's mom and step-dad or his dad and step-mom. (all these "steps" are hard on a kid....) Usually we ended up spending Christmas Eve with Granny and Pa-paw (his mom and stepdad) though because they were more flexible and less likely to pout.

After we'd leave their house it was "curl up" time, though. My favorite part. All three of us girls would pile up on the couch with Mama and she'd read the Christmas story to us. Yes, THE Christmas story. Usually from Luke but sometimes from Matthew. I like the Luke verses better, though, personally. After the Christmas story she would read "Twas the Night Before Christmas." Once that was over, Daddy would put the Elvis Christmas record on and they would tuck us in for the night.

Oh, the excitment that would shiver up and down my spine as I waited and listened for Santa. I can still remember the way my whole body used to shake with excitment. Back when I was sharing a room with Sis2 we used to whisper back and forth about what we hoped he'd bring. And then later, when I had a room of my own, I would lay awake and imagine what the next day might bring.

And then there it was. I always knew when it was morning because I would always hear Sis1 start coughing up a storm trying to wake our parents. (she was the only one who could tell time for a while so it became her job, you see.) See, Daddy wouldn't let us get up before he and mama were up. They always liked to get up first and go light the tree and make sure Santa was gone. lol Sometimes Sis1 would start coughing too early and we'd just have to lay in bed in agony for what felt like hours but was really only minutes until our parents would cave and get up. I used to go and sit with my ear pressed to the door listening and waiting after I'd hear them get up. Then when Elvis starting singing "Blue Christmas" that was our cue to come racing down the hall to inspect Santa's offerings.

To this day, I look back on the delights of those Christmas morning in awe. We would go all year without new toys or candy or anything special but oh, Santa made up for on that one day of the year. Toys, candy, clothes, fruit, nuts, stockings filled with little nick nacks and stuff. Games and Barbies and oh just sooooo much. And it was as much fun getting to see what all my sisters got as it was to look through my own haul. It was this wonderment that set me up to find out that Santa didn't really exist.

I had to have been eight or nine...the first year they came out with the Holiday Barbie. I had carted the Sears wishbook around with me for weeks, the page earmarked. I exclaimed to anyone who would listen that Santa was bringing me the Holiday Barbie. She would be the most beautiful Barbie I would ever own. That's what I kept saying. One day I was telling mama about it for the millionth time and she sort of looked at me and said, "You know, Santa really wants to bring you that Barbie but it's terribly expensive. He might not be able to afford it this year."

I remember my little brain puzzling on that for a bit. Santa? Not afford it? He'd always brought me the things I'd wanted before. Why not this one thing? And isn't Santa supposed to be rich or something? I was staring at the picture of the barbie with Sis2 a day or so after that and I remember distinctly...I looked up at her and said, "There isn't a Santa, is there." She looked at me with such pity and shook her head and told me the truth. I didn't get that barbie that year but I think I was more devestated at losing a dear friend than the barbie. It's tragic when a kid discovers that there isn't really any magic at Christmas and Rudolph is just a song.

*sniff sniff* ;-)

Ah, but how times have changed since then. It's funny and strange how time changes traditions and how things change despite our every effort at staying the same. My dad's dad and stepmom quit including us in their Christas gatherings when I was around 12 or so. He and Daddy had had a falling out of sorts. So Christmas Eve became our night to go riding through town looking at all the Christmas lights. Then we'd stop in town and get supper which was a treat in itself. We NEVER got to eat out unless it was someone's birthday. We got our first artificial tree when I was in high school. It was a little three footer. Mama and Daddy didn't have the time, energy or excitment to go and cut down a tree any longer. Then Sis1 got married when I was a senior in high school. For a while we just started new tradtions that included her husband. For the two years before Emmy was born they would spend the night with us and have Christmas morning and then Christmas day at Granny and Pa-paw's house. Then after Emmy was born they started doing Chrismas morning at their own house so that Emmy could have the same wonderful Santa experience that we had as children.

Now that I'm an adult, and all grown up, the traditions have really changed. For the past four years, Sis2 and I had our own traditions. We would spend Christmas Eve day together shopping and would go to lunch together and then we'd pack up and go out to Mama and Daddy's and spend the night so that we could have Christmas morning with them. This year, now that Sis2 is married, there won't be any Christmas Eve shopping or lunch. I won't even SEE her until Christmas night. She's spending Christmas Eve and most of Christmas day with HIS family. Sis1, Emmy and BIL in the past three or four years, have always gotten to our house around 9. After they did the Santa thing in Tuscaloosa, they'd just head on over. This year they won't be coming until after church lets out at 12 so it'll be close to 2 when they get here.

This whole year has just been really bittersweet for me. It's going to be really hard on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day for me and my parents. Actually, my parents have even sort of written me off. "It's just Jana this year so I don't guess we'll have much of a Christmas morning." Gee thanks, folks. *rolls eyes* Mama even asked me if I was going to bother spending the night this Christmas Eve. Like Sis2 was the glue that held the whole family together or something. *sigh*

But, as tradtions tend to do, new ones will form and we'll become comfortable and happy again...until the next time it changes.