crazy christmas memories

My birthday was yesterday and for the first time ever I wasn’t really excited about celebrating it. In fact, I was kind of dreading it. The question I asked myself; why? Why am I not excited to turn thirty-nine? Why am I dreading this day so much? Where was the eagerness I felt as a kid when I would literally count down the days ‘til my birthday? 

I really didn’t come to any earth-shattering conclusions, but something did occur to me. This would be the first birthday I would be celebrating without Mom. And there was one little thing, just a minor thing that I would miss in particular. Each and every birthday, Mom would call me up and sing that special birthday song. It’s amazing how such a little thing came to mean so much.

In fact, the morning of my birthday, I thought, ‘Who’s going to sing "Happy Birthday" to me this year?’ I prayed a little prayer that somehow, someone would call me up. And God didn’t disappoint. No, it wasn’t Mom, but it was still pretty good. A dear aunt of mine called late afternoon and sang to me. Not only that, she left it on my voicemail. When I played the message back, tears began to roll down my cheeks and I started to cry. I realized in that moment how precious even the simplest of traditions can be.

It’s kind of like Christmas. I don’t know about you, but I have all kinds of special memories about this holiday and the traditions we celebrated year after year. If I listed all of the special things we did as a family to celebrate, I could type for hours. But I won’t bore you with the details. Okay, well, maybe just a few of them.

Let’s start with Christmas Eve. On that magical night, my family and I would pile into the car and drive to church where us kids performed our Sunday School Program. I remember that the church was always packed, and I was bursting with excitement when we performed in front of everyone. After the program, as we filed out, members of the congregation handed out white bags of candy and other goodies to all the kids. Then, it was back to our house to watch the “Sound of Music” while Mom finished preparing our meal. Soup was usually the main course - clam chowder and broccoli cheese. Yummy!

From my earliest memories I know that we opened presents on Christmas Day, but eventually us kids petitioned to open them on Christmas Eve. After enough pestering, my parents consented and a new tradition began. After presents were opened and exulted over, we all headed to bed anxiously awaiting Christmas morn when we would open presents from Santa. It always took me a while to settle in.  Sometimes after everyone was asleep, I would sneak into the living room to see if Santa had come. Since my parents had turned off all the lights and turning them on would have given me away, I had to settle for fingering the presents and trying to figure out which one was mine.

And Christmas Day meals. Who could forget those? Prime rib, twice-baked potatoes, the traditional strawberry jello salad, broccoli slaw. Oh, it was all so good and perfect and right. And as I write this, I have to admit that part of me is sad that those traditions are a thing of the past.

But, as my dear, sweet husband reminded me the other day, I have a new family, now; two beautiful children who are excited and anxious for Christmas to come and counting down the days ‘til Santa visits our house. And I guess I’m realizing that it’s time to move into the future. While walking down memory lane can be fun, there comes a time when it’s important to create new memories –to begin new traditions that my family will cherish for years to come.