December 25, 2019

Merry Christmas!

I wanted to share with you just a few of my favorite memories of past Christmases. The first, of course, was, getting that stocking that Santa had filled, with the giant orange in the toe! That was something I always looked forward to each year.

Going to midnight Eucharist (Anglican/Episcopal) with my parents, and then with just my mom after my father passed. Our church was old and had a lot of wonderful dark wood inside it. It smelled of a century’s worth of incense and wax. In later times, when I would go there, I could always feel my parents close by.

My earliest memories of Christmas morning, after the stockings had been had, was a cooked breakfast of bacon and sausage and eggs, toast and orange juice and grape juice (Welches’ from concentrate)! There was real butter for the toast, and it was one of the few times a year we would all sit down and have breakfast together as a family. Mom was a nurse, and worked shifts, and Dad worked full time, so breakfast together was not always a given.

Then, after breakfast, my Daddy would put the television on, on Christmas morning, so that we could watch the Christmas Message from Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, who is the Queen of England but also the Queen of Canada.

I continued that tradition—both the breakfast and the Queen’s message—with my kids. And then when they grew and went their own way, we were invited to my older brother’s house on Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) for his Boxing Day brunch. We didn’t think we’d be doing that this year, as he suffered a stroke this past summer. He’s on the mend, talking and walking and still with that sharp wit of his—but without the stamina he’d had until then. He’d said he wasn’t going to have the brunch this year—but his grown boys have stepped in and announced that their mom and dad could relax and enjoy it this time, as they would do the cooking.

As parents, David and I, going out into the bush behind our house when we lived out in the sticks for our Christmas tree is a fond memory. There was a vast acreage that the owner, David’s boss at the time, told us to feel free to pick whatever tree we wanted. We had our oldest, just a baby that first time, bundled in a sled. More often than not, over the years, David would climb up and take a treetop, leaving the tree below to continue to grow.

The assembling and wrapping of the Santa gifts, complete with special Santa paper….and often not getting more than a couple of hours sleep before being awakened by excited children. They had to wait until the coffee was made and we were sitting in the living room, cups in hand. You see, that was the only way we could ensure we were awake enough to enjoy their joy. That, to us, was everything. And it still is.

Another fond memory was watching those same somewhat sappy Christmas specials on TV with our children that they are now watching with their grandkids! Yes, folks, Rudolph, Frosty, and Charlie Brown are that old.

There were times I hosted Christmas dinner, and especially the one time for 15 of us where I prepared everything, and my middle child, my Anthony, turned to me and said, “we should eat like this every day!”

There are memories that make me smile, and some that make me teary. Traditions, that I learned as a child and now see upheld by my children, and now by my grandchildren who are parents.

I hope you’re enjoying the day doing what you love with those you love. For those of you who are grieving, I hope good memories of Christmases past comfort you, and I hope the sound of children playing and laughing give you hope for the future.

In the words of Charles Dickens via Tiny Tim, may God bless us, everyone. 

Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury