It was the day after Thanksgiving, my wife’s birthday, when Christmas started coming to our household.
Red and green plastic crates were opened and rows of lights (inside and out) slithered down in ungainly clumps - to be separated later - until there was a pile up to my knees.
As more tops popped off the crates, Christmas tree ornaments came into view, nestled between angels and tinsel too.
The fresh-cut Noble Pine, in front of the window, was soon flanked by two three-foot high metal Nutcracker Kings who smirked with secret knowledge. The boughs were bare, but the recently discovered ornaments would soon be there.
Mistletoe was attached to the chandelier, ready to catch someone unaware. Ivy climbed out of the crates and onto the windows, framing them in evergreen. Colorful wreaths wrapped in ribbon centered themselves magically.
Santa and Mrs. Santa were there too. They stood next to some mischievous elves with big grins. Next to them, sporting holiday hats and mittens, there were penguins.
The stuffed pugs were giving hugs as they took their place on the wicker stand. The miniature Christmas village, parts of which were 80 years-old, were spread out in a puffy wonder winterland that really looks cold.
The music box played “Who’s That Doggie in the Window?” when it was wound up. Soon every wall was adorned with scenes of Christmas outdoors and holiday clocks. Hanging from the stairway there was a row of empty socks.
Papa’s “The Night Before Christmas’” storybook was brought forth and set upon the livingroom table in anticipation of five grandchildren. Christmas carols were in the air as Nana and Papa emptied the crates carefully so they didn’t break the special holiday plates.
The spirit of Christmas was there all right. We nearly stayed up all night. As we hung the trappings of Christmas, we remembered Christmas’s past. We have celebrated forty-three together so far, and each has been resplendent with treasured memories that will forever last.
As we strung lights on the tree, visions of our sons growing up made us smile as we recalled their eagerness on many Christmas Eves. All three have grown up and now have children of their own.
Despite our best efforts we shed a tear now and then remembering how it had been. Three sons who once depended upon us now are on their own. Yet, they haven’t gone too far.
They all live reasonably near, and we get together throughout the year.
Once, it was just Dave and Shirley. Then we became Mom and Dad. Now, at this juncture of our life, we are Nana and Papa, and couldn’t be more glad!
Grandchildren are great and they really make our season(s) special. Now, just days before Christmas, Nana and Papa’s house had been completely transformed, inside and out, in preparation of our family - which is what the season’s all about!
As It Stands, I wish all of my readers Merry Christmas, and to all a good night!
PIck up a copy of this column at newstands near you.
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