That blog jump start that I am not really doing had a topic last week about memories of Christmas. I love a writing prompt, so here goes.
This year I found myself getting stuck in bad, terrible, horrible Christmas memories. It made it hard for me to celebrate, to put up a tree, write cards, make cookies and other activities of the season. Even going to Mass was a little bit hard and I generally love going to Mass. I made myself do the seasonal things and tried to do them a little differently, to develop new traditions. I tried not to dwell in the sad places of my past.
This prompt about happy Christmas memories is very welcome. It is time to dwell in the happy past and not the miserable shadows. So I will respond with memories of Mass, of a gift, and travels, not necessarily in that order.
First up travels--Growing up my family lived half a state away from the families of my parents' origins, and it was Illinois, a big state north to south which was the direction we headed. Both my parents were teachers so Christmas didn't start until vacation started. We would not set up a tree until school was out. Then, many years we would head hundreds of miles to their parents houses. It was always planned when we would visit one set and when we would visit the other. I loved the travel, the family, the food, the presents, the strange decorations treasured by my extended families. I would not know my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents to this day if my parents had not made the effort to drive across the state to be with family on Christmas. Sometimes the travels were treacherous on two lane roads, but it seemed important and right to visit family at Christmas.
In the present department let me first stay that I was a Barbie girl. I had a friend Darlene who was also a Barbie girl. Our Barbie play resembled the beach blanket movies. Should I be ashamed to admit that I still loved Barbie through junior high? I didn't own many store bought Barbie clothes, but Mom made some for me. I made some myself. But, one Christmas, long before junior high, I received the Barbie Dream House. It had foldable cardboard furniture. Barbie and Ken were a little stiff and never looked very comfortable sitting in the house, but I loved it. I thought only rich people got real Barbie accessories and I got The Dream House. It was like Santa knew me better than I knew myself. And I don't think I really believed in Santa, but how else could I have gotten The Dream House? I am not sure what lesson this teaches anyone, but it is one of my happiest Christmas memories. Sometimes I think that kind of experience helps me to reference the all knowing, all loving God. If parents in the guise of Santa could give me the gift of a lifetime, then how much more does God have to give? And also that the joy in the gift is the memory of receiving it rather than the gift itself
And lastly, Christmas Mass. My family was a crazy "mixed marriage" variety. We always went to church on Christmas morning. It was sort of a pain because either we had to get up really early for presents and leave them or wait until after Mass. And I suppose that in my family, although one of my grandmas always made Jesus a birthday cake and we sang Happy Birthday to Him, was not overly holy on Christmas, It was about the decorations, the presents, the gatherings, and fitting Mass in with everything else going on. But, one Christmas, maybe when I was a freshman in high school, my dad got a hankering for midnight Mass. I had never been to Christmas midnight Mass. We went to a very small rural church with a lovely hand carved altar, Although it was a very old church, it was not always the most beautiful in my opinion. But, that Christmas Eve at midnight Mass we sang carols in candlelight before Mass. The last one before the beginning of Mass was Silent Night. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Suddenly I got it, the baby, the manger, the stable, the shepherds, the starry night and God felt very close and present in my life. In that memory, that little old church was the most beautiful breathtaking place in the world.
So, those are three beautiful Christmas memories to ponder in my heart.
This year I found myself getting stuck in bad, terrible, horrible Christmas memories. It made it hard for me to celebrate, to put up a tree, write cards, make cookies and other activities of the season. Even going to Mass was a little bit hard and I generally love going to Mass. I made myself do the seasonal things and tried to do them a little differently, to develop new traditions. I tried not to dwell in the sad places of my past.
This prompt about happy Christmas memories is very welcome. It is time to dwell in the happy past and not the miserable shadows. So I will respond with memories of Mass, of a gift, and travels, not necessarily in that order.
First up travels--Growing up my family lived half a state away from the families of my parents' origins, and it was Illinois, a big state north to south which was the direction we headed. Both my parents were teachers so Christmas didn't start until vacation started. We would not set up a tree until school was out. Then, many years we would head hundreds of miles to their parents houses. It was always planned when we would visit one set and when we would visit the other. I loved the travel, the family, the food, the presents, the strange decorations treasured by my extended families. I would not know my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents to this day if my parents had not made the effort to drive across the state to be with family on Christmas. Sometimes the travels were treacherous on two lane roads, but it seemed important and right to visit family at Christmas.
In the present department let me first stay that I was a Barbie girl. I had a friend Darlene who was also a Barbie girl. Our Barbie play resembled the beach blanket movies. Should I be ashamed to admit that I still loved Barbie through junior high? I didn't own many store bought Barbie clothes, but Mom made some for me. I made some myself. But, one Christmas, long before junior high, I received the Barbie Dream House. It had foldable cardboard furniture. Barbie and Ken were a little stiff and never looked very comfortable sitting in the house, but I loved it. I thought only rich people got real Barbie accessories and I got The Dream House. It was like Santa knew me better than I knew myself. And I don't think I really believed in Santa, but how else could I have gotten The Dream House? I am not sure what lesson this teaches anyone, but it is one of my happiest Christmas memories. Sometimes I think that kind of experience helps me to reference the all knowing, all loving God. If parents in the guise of Santa could give me the gift of a lifetime, then how much more does God have to give? And also that the joy in the gift is the memory of receiving it rather than the gift itself
And lastly, Christmas Mass. My family was a crazy "mixed marriage" variety. We always went to church on Christmas morning. It was sort of a pain because either we had to get up really early for presents and leave them or wait until after Mass. And I suppose that in my family, although one of my grandmas always made Jesus a birthday cake and we sang Happy Birthday to Him, was not overly holy on Christmas, It was about the decorations, the presents, the gatherings, and fitting Mass in with everything else going on. But, one Christmas, maybe when I was a freshman in high school, my dad got a hankering for midnight Mass. I had never been to Christmas midnight Mass. We went to a very small rural church with a lovely hand carved altar, Although it was a very old church, it was not always the most beautiful in my opinion. But, that Christmas Eve at midnight Mass we sang carols in candlelight before Mass. The last one before the beginning of Mass was Silent Night. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Suddenly I got it, the baby, the manger, the stable, the shepherds, the starry night and God felt very close and present in my life. In that memory, that little old church was the most beautiful breathtaking place in the world.
So, those are three beautiful Christmas memories to ponder in my heart.
