Indulges – Why I Hold My Family Close And Tight

Hi,

We all have them…holiday memories, meanings, traditions. Today, for whatever reason has brought me to this emotion, I need to write about my December moments.

Every year growing up Christmas Eve was spent visiting family. We would start with a stop in at my grandparents…Nanny and Pa. Here we would also, for the most part, visit with my youngest uncle. There we normally ran into my aunt and uncle.

Then it was to my Grandma’s apartment. Oh that elevator was sooooo slow. She seemed so much larger than life, then again, I was a child.

Then off to another uncle and aunt’s, again running into my aunt and uncle and Nanny and Pa. Then we all ended up at my Nanny’s sister’s home…Aunt J___.

Christmas Day was dinner at home with my Nanny and Pa. Sometimes my youngest uncle would be there. Then my aunt and uncle would drop over, again, sometimes my cousins would join us.

Seems normal, doesn’t it. Simple. Of course, as I grew older and family trees grew Christmas traditions changed and became memories as new ones grew.

My Grandma died in my father’s arms on December 25th, 1973. That December 24th there was no indication she wouldn’t be around another evening. She woke up that Christmas morning and as was her tradition fixed the turkey for dinner that night with my dad’s brother and his family. What was different was she called us. Mom and I differ on some memory details, but we both know she sent my dad down to his mom’s apartment cause something didn’t feel right.

My Nanny didn’t have to tell me my mom’s news from the phone call later that day. I knew. I grabbed my stuffed dog Mary, my new doll, and cried.

My Pa died February 7th, 1982. Technically a Sunday, but Pa really died shortly before or after 11 pm that Saturday. I was getting ready for bed when the phone rang. Mom came running up the stairs saying “It’s your grandfather.” I knew he was gone.

December 1982 was empty and filled. Oh would Pa have enjoyed it.

My Nanny moved to a small apartment. Sadly, I don’t remember the year, but we started a new tradition one Christmas Eve during that time. We had dinner and spent the evening with Nanny, my aunt and uncle and cousins. My aunt had buried her mom that Christmas Eve day. She needed us as much as we needed to be with her. Every year since Christmas Eve has been us and them. From first having it at my Nanny’s to having it at my aunt and uncle’s and now at my home.

December 25th 2001…my daughter’s due date. What better timing with all the heart emotions which have surrounded this day and month. Child was stubborn. She waited until January 5th to make her grand appearance. The same birthday of the woman who introduced me and hubby.

The last time I saw my dad fully alive and himself was December 25th 2004. We had Christmas like every year since my daughter’s birth. Days later my dad would end up on life support fighting for his life. While tests could never fully determine it, the cancer had came back. He died March 2005.

I don’t fully remember that first Christmas without him.

January 4, 2011 my Nanny passed away. We knew that coming Christmas was going to be difficult. But as always we’d pull together. Who knew my youngest uncle wouldn’t see Christmas. Six months after burying his mom, we buried him beside his parents.

This year we lost my Aunt J____.  Even though our Christmas Eve visits changed too many years ago, those memories are cherished and never forgotten.

I write this because something compelled me today. I can’t explain what that was or why I couldn’t not write this. It’s part of me being a writer, some days the words cannot be ignored.

Looking back, yes, through tears, I’m reminded of my family’s strength. Our closeness. The love surrounding us.

December is a hard month and yet it fills each year with memories, laughter, and stories of those no longer with us. A slow elevator. A non-race to see who gets to an aunt’s home first. Support. Would Pa finish that turkey leg. A niece and uncle arguing over who had more dressing. Dad making his yearly Christmas breakfast. Now, a fashion show between a great-aunt and her great-niece. Me shooing mom out of the kitchen cause I now have tater and turnip duty. Mother-in-law teaching son-in-law the family dressing recipe. Soup Day with hubby’s family.

Yes, December is a difficult month; however, family continues and the love grows.