My family has been through a lot the last couple of weeks, but I guess we have to do the Christmas thing anyway. Although, I think we would be better off hibernating for the winter. I think I may be part bear, as I have this overwhelming desire to sleep through cold weather and hard times. But seriously, it just seems wrong to carry on like nothing happened.
We tried to get some Christmas shopping done yesterday and the stores were so crowded I couldn't even think. I have a feeling I am going to be shopping on Christmas eve. I don't know what to buy for my kids. They live in a warmer climate so they don't need sweaters and scarves. They are renters and students who move a lot and don't need more things for their homes. I don't like to give cash because, well people know how much you spent. Besides it seems lazy and thoughtless. Why do I put myself through the torture of trying to find the perfect gift every year? I think it to death and then become frustrated. When my kids were growing up, I tried so hard to make every Christmas perfect and memorable. Chances are, they didn't care. Why would they? They were children, Christmas in its self was perfect.
When I was a child no one had to convince me Santa was real. I never got to see a department store Santa because Mom went to see him alone. That's what she said and I believed her. When I was around four or five we had snow and I wanted to go out and play. Afraid to be told no if I asked first, I went to the closet to get my coat. I opened the door and saw all these toys. Before what I was seeing really registered I felt someone grab my arm and pull me out. I think it was Greg. Everyone was standing around me asking what I saw. I honestly couldn't remember. My mom said Santa had to bring some toys early and I was to stay out of that closet. I believed her and of course never looked in the closet again. I knew Christmas would come and I could wait. I cant imagine it now, but I really had no anxiety about it at all. I got my little piano that year.
We never had stockings but we hung up our socks. I can remember my dad trying to get an orange out of my little anklet sock. How Santa ever got it in there I don't know. We always had fruit and nuts and ribbon candy on Christmas morning. My dad loved ribbon candy. Daddy would drink his Christmas morning coffee out of my tiny little tea set just to make me happy. I know he needed a bigger cup of coffee after being up all night helping Santa.
Another strange memory I have of Christmas in the 1960's was advertisements for gift boxed cigarettes. I wonder if anyone ever gave cigarettes for Christmas. I don't think Santa would like it.
No comments:
Post a Comment