Growing up, as most kids are, I was VERY unaware of my family's financial status. I knew that we weren't rich and I refused to admit that there might be a chance that we were considered poor. After all, we never got the 'free or reduced meals' from school (at least not that I know of), and I knew that our needs were met and that seemed sufficient.
My mom, out of the graciousness of her heart and her love for us, stayed at home to attend to me and my siblings' needs. A mother that is willing and able to stay home for her kids' sake, is by far a stronger woman, than one who seeks out a career outside the home, in my opinion. However difficult that was for her at that time, I never knew and I was thankful that, when I walked through our door after school, she was home.
My dad, out of pure love and duty, consistently went to work. Not only did he work, he worked hard. He rarely took sick days. In fact, I don't recall him ever taking one. He rarely even took time to eat lunch. I have saved and compiled many images and memories of him, getting up before the sun rose and returning once it had already set. The thing that I remember most, is that he never complained, not once. Those long hours that he would spend at the office, during tax season, year after year, proved him impervious. I don't remember him ever complaining about what he had to do, he just did it. It reminds me of what he worked for; food, shelter, clothes, family and Christmas.
So, to redeem myself of my grinch-like qualities I must post on what I love(d) about Christmas.
Christmas eve was ALWAYS spent at grandma and grandpa Taylor's house, with all the cousins, aunts, uncles and dear friends. We had dinner and the most delicious home-made Swedish cookies, that were sprinkled with sugar and so carefully shaped and placed. I remember having a hard time choosing what cookie I really wanted, when grandma would circle about the living room, carrying the shiny, Sterling Silver platter, of desserts. Of course, I always went back for seconds. The night seemed endless as we talked, laughed and played. Going home was the toughest part, as I knew that falling asleep was next to impossible, on a night like that.
Christmas mornings were early, very early. They were exciting and they were curious. All of us kids would sit on the stairs that led to the basement, where the tree was. We would position ourselves with our flannel blankets, wrapped tightly around us and wait for dad to stoke the fire. This always seemed like an eternity! Once dad was done, we all ran down the stairs as fast as we could to see what awaited us. The beautiful tree, with presents lovingly tucked beneath it.
The morning was grand to say the least! Once we had fully unwrapped every last gift, played a few games, tried on our clothes and fiddled with our over-stuffed stocking goods, it was time to have grandma and grandpa for breakfast. Bacon, eggs, grapefruit, pancakes, orange juice and milk, were always on the menu for Christmas morning. I loved it! For that day.....time stood still.
I miss those days, when 'Santa' remembered to stop at our house. He never once forgot! I miss knowing that he cared enough to provide gifts for me. I miss those mornings that seemed to bring him so much joy, seeing me happy. I miss having him there in the room with me, watching as I ripped the paper from my presents, anxious to see what was inside. I miss all of it! I will always miss that.
So, as I think of my younger years and reminisce on what was, please know that I am appreciative of what Mr. and Mrs. Clause were able to do for me. For their willingness to give and be generous about it. I will never forget it. The memories have been welded into my soul will forever remain.
I have come to the conclusion that making these same memories for my kids, is by far the most important thing to me. It isn't what they get, it is the feelings and the surroundings they live for. Although Christmas will never be my favorite holiday, I want it to be the best for my children, as I am now a replica of 'Santa', watching with love in my soul, as my kids do just what I did. I get to see it first hand and be a witness that 'Santa' IS still around!
