Dear George,
Xmas was the grandest time of the year in our family. A couple of weeks beforehand my dad would take us kids to the big field across the road from river house where he had planted hundreds of evergreens years before. We’d pick out an eight foot pine or spruce, choosing a tree that was not visible from the road and in a cluster that needed thinning. Then we’d lug it home, tie it to the car roof, and drive into town to Van’s auto body shop. My dad arranged each year to have our tree painted in one of the auto spray paint enclosures. The first year we had a white tree, but then moved on to a new color each year – blue, red, yellow, etc. Aunt Martha, on seeing our non-green tree, always thought there was something slightly sacrilegious about it, and she and my dad would engage in some ritual teasing.
My mother was in charge of tree decorations, and she would organize the kids to create long strings of popcorn and cranberries. We’d add silver icycles, shiny red and white balls, and homemade ornaments that we’d create anew each year. Once the tree was complete, wrapped gifts would start accumulating. The children would stare at them wide-eyed each day, speculating about their contents and struggling to endure the painful wait before opening them.
In the late afternoon of Xmas eve we would all go to Ruth and Vic Mars’ home on Northwood Cove where all the parents in our social circle would bring their kids (probably 20 or more). As darkness set in, the children all found hiding places in the living room behind chairs, tables, or the sofa. Everyone would be completely silent, and after a short wait who would appear from an entryway but Santa himself. He carried a huge bag, and the children were hidden so well that he didn’t notice a single one. He discovered and ate the cookies that we’d left for him and then, with a few ho-ho-ho’s, he began emptying his bag of wrapped gifts under the Xmas tree. Amazingly, there was a gift for every child present. Then Santa left and we listened to see if we could hear the patter of reindeer feet on the roof.
Back home we’d have a big extended family gathering. Uncle Kent and Aunt Millie would bring our cousins Thor, Stewart (Stewpot), and Kurt. My grandfather V.A. Sr. would come along with Aunt Martha, Uncle Ralph, and their kids John and Annie. Generally the last person to arrive was Kent’s twin brother Karl who would drive up from Neenah-Menasha. Often the O’Hara’s or other family friends would join us as well. Everybody would exchange presents. Ralph and Kent, who managed the Marinette and Menominee drugstores respectively, would bring samples of their merchandise, e.g., perfume for the women, Whitman candies for the kids. Uncle Karl who was a bachelor with no family expenses always brought the most extravagant presents. Elaborate toys for the children, fancy dresses for the mothers, even a fur-piece for Aunt Millie one year. In the early 50’s when the nuclear arms race between the U.S. and the Soviet Union was escalating, Karl gave me an educational nuclear radiation kit which I would take with me on family trips, hoping to discover a uranium lode which would make our family wealthy.
My parents would brew up a large bowl full of glogg – a potent Swedish concoction of brandy, wine, fruits, and spices – and put out bowls of peanuts, sardines, creamed herring, and miscellaneous munchies. The adults would get a little tipsy. We’d have a big fireplace fire. As the oldest kid, I would play Xmas carols on the Hammond Chord Organ, and Vicki would later do this too as she came of age. We’d have a reading of “The Night Before Christmas” by the older children, and my mother would put out a big buffet in mid-evening. The kids liked to sneak up to the second floor balcony which overlooked the living room and watch to see what the adults might say and do in their absence.
After everybody left we would put out some milk and cookies for Santa, then go to bed. Steven and I were in the bunk bedroom just off the corner of the living room. We would leave the door slightly ajar and vowed each year to stay awake long enough to determine if it were really Santa who came and left the gifts. But we always fell asleep before Santa arrived. I forget the age when we finally discontinued our Santa beliefs – maybe 8 or 9 – but our kid rule was to perpetuate the myth for our younger siblings as long as we could.
We’d wake early on Xmas morning and run out to find an ample supply of new gifts under the tree. Santa always knew what we wanted most, and we were thrilled with the toys and games. We were less interested in new clothes, but my mother explained that Santa sometimes brings things that we actually need, even if they aren’t as much fun. The biggest present of all was when a child was ready for a new bike. We’d spend the rest for the day playing with our new acquisitions. My mother would make a big Xmas dinner – turkey, goose, ham, pot roast, or even venison – and friends would drop in throughout the day. As with most families, Christmas was an extraordinary time – filled with excitement, wonder, and joy. Above all it was the most significant time of the year for generating and sustaining a loving family spirit.
Merry Christmas to all,
Dave
G-Mail Comments:
-Donna D (12-29): Sounds like a picture perfect family time... Was it as it sounds really? If so, I'm totally envious. You really played the Hammond organ?
No comments:
Post a Comment