November 22, 2006
Keeping memories alive
It’s almost Thanksgiving, which means I should have started Christmas shopping already. I do have lists. I just haven’t gotten to it yet. That’s one way that I’m definitely not like my mother. She always became rather secretive around September, shortly after the new clothes and school supplies to outfit four kids had been taken care of. I have distinct memories of seeing her slip boxes under her bed, and those boxes having disappeared before the next time I was able to slip into her room undetected. By the time the Thanksgiving turkey bones had been consigned to the stew pot Mom was already nagging Dad to “get Christmas out of the attic.†Come December first or thereabouts, we’d have our tree decorating night. Dad would have spent several hours de-tangling strings of multi-colored lights, checking all the bulbs, then draping each strand just so. I always wanted to hang the faded tin bells that had been purchased the first year of our parent’s marriage. Little brother usually handled the miniature wooden toys and figurines. Sis liked to find special places for all of the new Christmas Decorations that Mom sometimes allowed us to help her select at the post-Thanksgiving sales. And older brother was adamant that the tree topper must always be his duty. I have pictures of that ceremony that span the years. In the oldest of these, Dad holds him up to the uppermost branches as he reaches out to fasten the silver star with the twinkling lights in the middle. A few short years later, Dad is almost out of the picture, one hand reaching out to catch him should he tumble from the wobbly wooden ladder that helped him reach that all-important top spike. Later still, his own height is almost equal to the tree on which he is placing the angel with spun fiberglass hair that replaced the brittle star.
Things are different now, but much is the same. I have my own ornaments that have been lovingly hung each December for several decades. Miniature stuffed animals my grandmother made for my son’s first Christmas. A small wooden train that circles the base of the tree. A few new Christmas decorations added each year. An angel tree topper with a fluffy mass of curly hair. And every year, the picture in my mind of Big Brother reaching up to impossible heights.
Posted by skeet @ 12:40 am • Home & Family, PayPerPost
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