It seems like just yesterday that I was a tween, on a snowy Christmas morning, and my oldest brother had me hunting through the house for my present. He used to do things like wrap up an album in a box that a refrigerator was delivered in, just to bust my chops. That one Christmas he led me on a treasure hunt with wrapped clues that led me to The Osmonds new album. Oh my gosh, I thought I had died and gone to heaven....
I remember coming home from a family get together on Christmas Eve when Tom was a toddler. That year I had bought him a little red tractor that, of course, needed to be assembled. We were with my parents at the time so my Dad volunteered to put it together when we arrived home at 1:00 A.M.. Now you have to know my Dad to love him. He was the type of guy that didn't need instructions; he knew everything. Of course, I was standing there with the instructions in hand while he poo-pooed me and motioned me away with a swish of his hand. Three hours later, while I was standing there, holding the wheel wells (that were supposed to be put on first, but never made it onto the finished product) we heard the pitter patter of little feet coming down the stairs. There was Tom, tousled hair, rubbing his tired eyes, in his feetie pajamas just a few footsteps away from a Santa present. Thankfully my own quick feet got him back up the stairs and back into bed before he saw anything. That is now part of our Christmas tales.
Then there was the year that his little friend from the neighborhood told him the truth about Santa. I don't know who was more heartbroken, Tom or me. I was furious but oh well, that is kids for ya, so I did what any parent that wants to keep the magic just a little longer would do.... I had a chat with Santa. It just so happened that the Santa in our mall had a day job with me at the bank. He knew Tom, and all that had happened to him that year ~ like when he broke his arm and had the blue cast on. Tom vaguely remembers his sit down with Santa, but I remember it well and it was hilarious to watch. We stood on line with everyone else and when he was at the front of the line Santa invited him over and called him by name. I thought the kid was going to have a heart attack. I could only hear bits and pieces of what was being said but Tom's expressions went from shock and horror to laughing and then back to shock again. Santa mentioned the broken arm and a tiff that he had with his best friend just that day (which he vehemently denied). When Tom asked for the newest Nintendo, Santa said well I just brought it last year. How about I bring you some new games instead? He was more than okay with that. It was amazing and magical and we got through the remainder of that Christmas and the next one too, with his belief still intact (He was 6 at the time, not 21 btw. I have to admit, though, my plan did backfire a bit. The poor kid was so paranoid afterward he slept with the covers over his head for quite a few months.
But one of my most cherished memories goes back to when i was a teen. We were sitting at the dinner table. I had made it to the "adult" table that year so I was feeling very mature and it seems that I was too. At that young age I remember thinking that it is not always going to be like this. Savor every face, and this moment, and soak it all in and I did just that. If I close my eyes I can still smell the roast beef, gravy, biscuits and my Dad's cologne. I can see the faces of my beloved family members, all smiling and flushed from hearty laughs and good company. I can hear the voices all mingled together and as melodious as a hymn. I can feel the love; the unconditional kind that you get only from your family.
That is what Christmas is all about to me, love. I have had it all my life ~ from a brother (two actually), a Father, a Mother, Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and a Son. I have been the giver and the receiver and it is the most wondrous of gifts that God has ever given us.
May your Christmas be filled with that same love, with peace and with the joy that comes from being a part of this incredible thing called life.
God bless and have a beautiful, merry, Christmas.
Mare
**The painting is by Norman Rockwell. It can be purchased at his site: NormanRockwell.com.
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