I hate Christmas.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I just hate everything about it. I hate the panic to buy gifts. I hate the damn Christmas music playing in every store, all day and all night. I hate the crowds in the stores. I hate the obligation to buy gifts, send cards, go to parties and to wish every damn person a "Merry Christmas". I hate hearing people say to me, "I know it isn't politically correct but Merry Christmas, I refuse to save Happy Holidays." I dread the day after Thanksgiving and am filled with relief on December 26:I made through another damn Christmas season.
That being said, I have very happy Christmas memories:
1-
Standing at the top of the barracked stairs,
waiting for my father, who was downstairs, to give the signal to my mother that
everything was in order and we could now charge down.
2-
The disappointment when I looked at that brand
new blue bike and said to my parents , “this
is exactly what I wanted” and my mother informing me that the bike was for my older brother . But I could have his old bike.
3-
Sugared cereal, in the box that we ate on my parents’
bed. We couldn’t go downstairs until
everyone ate breakfast. The sugared
cereal was an incentive to entice us to eat. So we wolfed down our breakfast
with dangerous, chocking speed.
4-
Midnight mass with a church filled with an amber
glow and poinsettias and happy families and holy music and incense and lots of altar
boys.
5-
New pajamas to celebrate the day.
6-
The tree.
Some years, my father was assigned the task of getting the tree. He hated the idea of spending money on a tree
so he always went for the cheapest, scrawniest tree. When he returned, his purchase was never met
with my mother's approval. So she would
push him aside and go out and get a better, bigger, more expensive tree. Sometimes to embellish her disappointment in
his selection she would take his pathetic tree and tie it on to her big, full,
fragrant tree. He got the point.
7-
Making our tree decoration. One year, my mother
set up her own child slave labor factory and had the six of us make hundreds
and hundreds of felt Christmas ornaments.
We made trees and gingerbread men and mittens and bells and stars. The next year, we made cardinals and
doves. And then she never bought another
decoration. We had enough.
8-
The big Christmas dinner. The table would be set with the good
china. The silver was polished. A crowned prime rib was cooked. My father
would stand up and say grace and he gave a speech about our blessings. He usually began to cry. But this never shortened his speech. He just
stumbles through his words as my mother and some of us smirked at him. My grandmother, his mother in law, always got
up and gave him a kiss for a job well done.
9-
The Chiveros, my parents’ friends who didn’t
have children, so they came every December 24 to our house with a present to
all of us. Each of us received our own
box of Italian nugget candies. None of
us liked this particular type of candy.
But one year, when they had only given us one box for the entire family,
we were being particularly polite and stretched the truth and said we loved
this candy. The next year and for many
years later, we all relieved our individual boxes of these expensive, imported
candies that tasted like chewy sawdust.
10-
My easy bake oven. It came with four cake packets. My mother told me to use these packets
judiciary. But I didn’t listen. I could hardly contain my excitement. I baked all four of those packets before
lunch. I made all four cakes with the energy of a light bulb. My mother never
bought anymore of those packets again so I never baked again. That was the last time I baked.
11-
My Tammy doll.
Everyone else was getting Barbie dolls.
But I guess, Tammy was a little bit less expensive. She was a little
taller than Barbie but not as shapely and she didn’t have the clothing variety
that Barbie had. Bit I liked having a
doll that was just a little different.
12-
Troll dolls. One year, my aunt gave us troll
dolls with cave man costumes that she made for the dolls. My doll had bright green hair.
13-
Going to my dad’s office with my sister for the
day. During the week between Christmas and New Year’s, we would take turns
going to his office with him for the day.
I brought my troll dolls and we played with them while he worked.
14-
Radio City Music Hall and the Waldorf Astoria
hotel. A few years, my parents took all
of us to NYC for the weekend and we stayed at the Waldorf. While they went to a party in the hotel, we
stayed locked in our room but we were allowed to call room service and order
cokes. The next day, we would go to the
Radio City Music Hall to see the rockets.
15-
Handmade felt stocking, made by my mother. I thought they were all beautiful. And each stocking was unique. I liked mine the best and I still have it.
16-
Lots of Christmas cards from lots of people. And Christmas Seals stamps.
17-
The Christmas break movies at the Greenhill Theater. On the Saturday after Christmas, the local
movie theatre showed a movie of no interest to anyone for free. And then they gave everyone a free box of
sticky, sweet, fruity hand candies, like that hard ribbon candy you find uneaten
in your grandmother’s candy jar. The
theatre was always packed but no one came to watch the movie. We just came for the candy which we never
really liked but it was free so that was enough incentive.
18-
Carol Night in high school. Everyone in the school participated. Every grade had to sing one song. And then the girls with the good voices, like
Kathy, got solos. I never got a solo.
19-
The pressure of giving just the right gift your
high school friends. We all watched not
only what we received but how others viewed the gifts we gave. Was the gift worthy of our friendships? Did we spend enough? Was our gift better than others?
20-
Midafternoon, that moment of calm after the
opening of the gifts and right before the panic of dinner preparations started.
