I will be celebrating sixty-two Christmases this year. I remember about fifty-eight of them. Those first four years are a bit fuzzy for obvious reasons. Still, celebrating sixty-two Christmases leaves me with a treasure trove of memories. Some good, some not-so-good, and some down right disasters. No matter what happened, it was Christmas, it was magical. Like the year we kids caught a glimpse of Santa through the kitchen window. Dad had arranged for one of his colleagues to surprise us with a visit from Old Saint Nick. That year I got the play tea set I wanted and my sister got her Chatty Cathy doll. Then there was the year that having endured a three hour car ride, our dog Sydney peed on all of the presents under Grandma’s Christmas tree. The following year I spent Christmas on the sofa with strep throat. My darkest Christmas memory though was losing our three year old cousin to leukemia. That was the toughest. Some Christmases were pretty crazy though, like the Christmas Eve Mom surprised Dad with a used piano. She asked my brother, his friends, and me to go pick it up and bring it home. It was dark when we tied it up with cord on the bed of a pick up truck and took off down the road. Needless to say we were stupid kids and didn’t know what we were doing. The piano began to shift, then tilt, then fall. Not completely off the truck, just sorta cockeyed with those ivories facing the heavenly sky. We had to pull over on the side of the highway. Two of us jumped in the bed of the truck and held onto that piano until we got home. Dad got his piano and we were surprised we got it there in one piece and without getting ourselves killed in the process.
Having lived those sixty-two Christmases I can honestly say that I’ve experienced what I thought was it all. That is until this year. I now truly understand the importance of Christmas. You see, this year I’m no longer anyone’s kid. I was Joyce and Stan’s kid. And when I lost Dad, I became just Joyce’s kid. And this year, well this year I’m nobody’s kid. That loss, that hole in my heart reminds me of the gift I’ve been given, the gift of love. I miss my folks terribly, but I will celebrate with those I love and that love me. One day each one of us will find ourselves without a parent or a loved one. It will hurt. But, with the sorrow comes beautiful memories. May we keep the spirit of Christmas alive through those wonderful memories. Remember to hold your loved ones close and tell them just how much you love them. Wishing you and your family a blessed holiday season and a very Happy New Year!
Until 2020……..
