Write about a favourite memory
I have no idea why this has seemed like a struggle for me to write about. I mean those that know me, especially my family, are always blown away by my memory, by what I remember from my childhood. Perhaps what is difficult is selecting just one memory or just one area of life to find a memory from.
I’ve already shared the moments I wish to never forget from my journey with the twins and I’m not even sure that’s what I would share when it came to a favourite memory.
Would it be the day I got married?
Definitely not the day I got engaged….but that’s a story for another time.
The day I became a mom? It could be as it was pretty amazing...but it was also marred with some pretty unexpected events when it came to Zack’s health so I’m not sure that would be it.
Or maybe it should be childhood memories…. A special birthday or holiday? A special trip? Festive traditions?
Honestly this is so much harder than I thought it would be and so I’ve decided that in the spirit of Christmas I will recall memories of childhood Christmas celebrations. Not specifics perhaps but those ‘things we did’ that I’ll never forget.
Our holiday season usually began with my family travelling to ‘the big city’ to stay at my Aunt Sandra and Uncle Jerry’s house for a weekend of sleepovers, some shopping and, of course, the Santa Claus parade. Staying with cousins Julie and Janiss was definitely a highlight of my childhood. I’m sure the parade back then wasn’t held nearly as early as it is now as it didn’t seem long after that fun weekend that Dad was sent into town to buy a Christmas tree. It would stand outside the house for a few days. My childhood brain couldn’t wrap my head around why we didn’t just bring it home and put it up immediately. I remember walking by it as I came home from school with the knowledge that it was a promise of fun times decorating coming up soon.
And soon that day came and we’d gather around as a family and decorate the tree. There was a box of ornaments that we were never allowed to touch. They were gorgeous in the eyes of a child….fuschia and teal with snow like glitter and as shiny as could be. They had been a wedding gift or something like that and they were so very special to my mom. I remember we’d decorate the tree while listening to Christmas records on the record player. When we were all done my dad would life one of us up to place the angel on the top of the tree. What an honour that was!
Just before Christmas the junior choir from my church would go caroling. And not just any old caroling where you’d walk from house to house. No, we’d go in a horse drawn sleigh and would go to sing at the retirement homes in our town as well as to all the ‘shut ins’....those folks who often didn’t get out much during the slippery winter season. After that we’d go back to the choir directors house for fondue! I’m sure there were tons of other treats too but the fondue will always stick out in my mind. Somewhere in there we also had our church Christmas pageant. Every year, without fail, there was a nativity play of some sort with lots of singing and adorable children in sheep and angel costumes.
Soon Christmas Eve would arrive and we’d leave out cookies and milk (or sometimes it was a beer or rye and coke…. apparently Santa needed a drink by the time he got to our house) and we’d head off to bed with visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads.
The next morning, bright and early, we’d be knocking at my parents door and asking mom if we could go down to see what Santa brought. Some years we beat my dairy farmer dad, who rose well before 6 a.m. to go milk the cows, out of bed and were sent back to bed with ‘the look’ from mom. But soon enough down the stairs we’d go to see what was left under the tree by ‘the big guy’. It was never wrapped and that and our stockings were the only thing we were allowed to look at/open until Dad came in from the barn. I remember there being present after present to open and it being kind of a chaotic mess in our living room. And then just as soon as it started, we were done and it was time for a big breakfast complete with fruit salad (which apparently was quite a treat for us LOL).
After dad had a nap and we’d played sufficiently with our toys, it was time for us to travel to one grandparent or the other’s house for family Christmas. In later years it was always my mom’s parent’s house as we had my dad’s side a week or two before Christmas (after a year we did it on Christmas Eve and all the city relatives got storm stayed in Teeswater!!!).
Christmas with cousins, especially my Ireland ones (there were around 10 of us within a 6 year age span...and another 6 or so a few years younger) was always a fun time filled with huge meals and dessert feasts! Soon after dinner the kids would gather around and open presents. Another chaotic mess in the living room, the tradtional Christmas photo pose with our grandparents (I could only find a photo from Dad’s side to post) we’d be sent outside to toboggan down the hill while the parents opened their gifts.
All too soon it was over and we headed for home with full belly’s and smiles on our faces knowing we were loved and blessed by an amazing family!
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