We all have some favorite memories of Christmas. Each year seems to add a unique perspective or a new family member. What are yours?
Here are a few memorable ones of mine.
Age 12
As much as I'd like to say that my favorite Christmas growing up revolved around a family gathering, trip, or even a funny mishap, it's not so. It was the Christmas I was twelve and received my first set of 78 LP's! A whole new world opened up - a world in which I could practice dance moves for the Friday night mixers. There was the Platters' "Earth Angel," Fats Domino's "My Blue Heaven," Al Hibbler's "Unchained Melody," Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti," as well as "See You Later Alligator," "Mr. Sandman," and Elvis, of course. Over and over I played each record, never budging from the spot in the living room where I practiced the jitterbug. I had struck gold! I gave up on the singing, though.
A Christmas Eve with Young Sons
While our two sons were growing up, we had a Christmas Eve routine. We would spend time at the home of one of our boys' best friends, Derek Laffey, in Cumberland, R.I. Stepping into the Laffey's home was like stepping into the pages of Architectural Digest. Kiva and Ed welcomed all of our family, including my parents, as part of their own. After that visit we travelled to the coast of Massachusetts to spend the rest of the evening with my husband's family. Since Charley was the oldest of seven children, there were six siblings' families (with ten grandchildren) all opening gifts. It was chaos. Papers flew everywhere and kids grabbed and rode everything, especially if the toy belonged to a cousin! Each family put its gifts in trash bags and kept them separated. On the Christmas I most remember, we arrived home at 1 a.m. with a bag of trash instead of gifts!
My Parents' Visits
After my parents moved to Florida, they would fly up to join Charley, Tim, Todd, and me at our home in Massachusestts for the holiday. Eventually the walls of our house bulged with fiancees, wives, and in-laws. Now we have added the grandchildren.
My parents were troopers, following us on our Christmas Eve trek, as well as to local parties. As they entered their eighties, we hosted the parties at our home so they wouldn't have to leave the house or stay up too late.
However, in 1996, a blizzard wound its way up the coast. It hit Philadelphia first, where my parents were catching their second flight for Providence. They sat aboard their plane on the tarmac while U.S. Air decided whether to proceed. Meanwhile, Charley and I waited in Providence, until the airport closed. U.S. Air officials there claimed my parents' flight might still be coming. All one had to do was look outside to see a complete whiteout! We headed home after midnight in six inches of snow.
Around that time, my parents finally deplaned in Philadelphia. They slept on benches in the airport. The food court had closed, so they had nothing to eat.
The next day, they arrived in Providence bleary-eyed and shaken. "Never again!" they told us. "Please don't ask us to fly up here again, especially in the winter!" They went right to bed at our house, missed Christmas Eve, and after Mom opened her new fur jacket on Christmas morning and posed for a photo in the snow, they went back to bed. They slept a total of seventeen hours.
2010
Charley and I reside in Florida, and it has been several years since we have hosted the family for Christmas in Massachusetts. We have, however, travelled to our sons' homes. And we have slept on airport benches - only it was in Atlanta.
This year, we arrived safely in New Jersey and were able to enjoy not only our twin grandsons born in July, but also their almost-three-year-old sister, and our other two granddaughters visiting from Massachusetts. It was a memorable Christmas, with everyone together. To top it off, we got snowed in with a blizzard for two days! Two more wonderful days sitting by the fire, feeding the twins, playing dress-up, eating pretend concoctions from the pretend kitchen Santa brought. After seven days together, it was time to rebook a flight home and grab some ZZZ's!
Here are a few memorable ones of mine.
Age 12
As much as I'd like to say that my favorite Christmas growing up revolved around a family gathering, trip, or even a funny mishap, it's not so. It was the Christmas I was twelve and received my first set of 78 LP's! A whole new world opened up - a world in which I could practice dance moves for the Friday night mixers. There was the Platters' "Earth Angel," Fats Domino's "My Blue Heaven," Al Hibbler's "Unchained Melody," Little Richard's "Tutti Frutti," as well as "See You Later Alligator," "Mr. Sandman," and Elvis, of course. Over and over I played each record, never budging from the spot in the living room where I practiced the jitterbug. I had struck gold! I gave up on the singing, though.
A Christmas Eve with Young Sons
While our two sons were growing up, we had a Christmas Eve routine. We would spend time at the home of one of our boys' best friends, Derek Laffey, in Cumberland, R.I. Stepping into the Laffey's home was like stepping into the pages of Architectural Digest. Kiva and Ed welcomed all of our family, including my parents, as part of their own. After that visit we travelled to the coast of Massachusetts to spend the rest of the evening with my husband's family. Since Charley was the oldest of seven children, there were six siblings' families (with ten grandchildren) all opening gifts. It was chaos. Papers flew everywhere and kids grabbed and rode everything, especially if the toy belonged to a cousin! Each family put its gifts in trash bags and kept them separated. On the Christmas I most remember, we arrived home at 1 a.m. with a bag of trash instead of gifts!
My Parents' Visits
After my parents moved to Florida, they would fly up to join Charley, Tim, Todd, and me at our home in Massachusestts for the holiday. Eventually the walls of our house bulged with fiancees, wives, and in-laws. Now we have added the grandchildren.
My parents were troopers, following us on our Christmas Eve trek, as well as to local parties. As they entered their eighties, we hosted the parties at our home so they wouldn't have to leave the house or stay up too late.
However, in 1996, a blizzard wound its way up the coast. It hit Philadelphia first, where my parents were catching their second flight for Providence. They sat aboard their plane on the tarmac while U.S. Air decided whether to proceed. Meanwhile, Charley and I waited in Providence, until the airport closed. U.S. Air officials there claimed my parents' flight might still be coming. All one had to do was look outside to see a complete whiteout! We headed home after midnight in six inches of snow.
Around that time, my parents finally deplaned in Philadelphia. They slept on benches in the airport. The food court had closed, so they had nothing to eat.
The next day, they arrived in Providence bleary-eyed and shaken. "Never again!" they told us. "Please don't ask us to fly up here again, especially in the winter!" They went right to bed at our house, missed Christmas Eve, and after Mom opened her new fur jacket on Christmas morning and posed for a photo in the snow, they went back to bed. They slept a total of seventeen hours.
2010
Charley and I reside in Florida, and it has been several years since we have hosted the family for Christmas in Massachusetts. We have, however, travelled to our sons' homes. And we have slept on airport benches - only it was in Atlanta.
This year, we arrived safely in New Jersey and were able to enjoy not only our twin grandsons born in July, but also their almost-three-year-old sister, and our other two granddaughters visiting from Massachusetts. It was a memorable Christmas, with everyone together. To top it off, we got snowed in with a blizzard for two days! Two more wonderful days sitting by the fire, feeding the twins, playing dress-up, eating pretend concoctions from the pretend kitchen Santa brought. After seven days together, it was time to rebook a flight home and grab some ZZZ's!
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