The Christmas Circle
I do
remember as the youngest child for many years, and very small for my age, being
upset at being delegated to decorating the bottom of the Christmas tree. I
wanted to decorate the top like everyone else and every year, when I thought no
one was looking, I’d climb on a chair and try to reach the very top of the
tree. Usually one of my older siblings or my father would catch me and yank me
down in time….but sometimes the tree lost! I shudder at how many ornaments I
broke as a child. I remember a few gifts and our Christmas stockings with a
large juicy orange in the toe. But distinct memories are rare. I think mainly
because my parents didn’t take pictures so I have nothing to jog my memory. But
I’ll never forget Christmas, 1971.
My family is large. I have six biological siblings plus one
foster brother that came when he was nine and never left. So, although never
formally adopted, he is a brother in our eyes. Then there were the other kids
from the Children’s Aid that came and went plus teenagers who couldn’t, for a
variety of reasons, live at home and stayed with us and sometimes other parents
who were having a rougher time then us would ask my parents to take their kids
for awhile. They turned down no one. My parents owned a small farm with some
cash crops and a few beef cattle and I now wonder how in the world they ever
cared for some many children, let alone give us a nice Christmas every year. We
didn’t have summer vacations or new cars but we had all the basics and really
lacked for nothing we didn’t need. Looking back I guess we were quite poor, but
we just didn’t realize it. They both opened their home and hearts to who ever
needed help. They loved us all. Everyone who visited our home instantly felt
wanted, safe and loved. Feelings everyone needs, especially those that came to
us with wounded spirits.
People liked and respected my father. His
word and a handshake was all that was needed to seal a deal; but everyone loved
my mother.
The loving part was easy for Mom and she
loved nothing better then having all us together for a family meal, especially
at Christmas time. Thru the years we did like most kids, grew up and got
married and started our own families. When I had my first child in 1971, I made
certain that I took my camera to the family Christmas dinner. I wanted pictures of my daughter’s first
Christmas with her grandparents. I didn’t know at the time it would be the last
Christmas with my mother. How I treasure that one picture. Mom, the picture of
health in December, had a minor stroke a couple months later and my father
rushed her to the hospital. Although the stroke was minor they noticed her left
breast was turned in and asked about it. She told them she had mentioned it to
her family doctor and he didn’t even examine her. He simply said, “You’ve had seven
children Edith. What do you expect?” So, she didn’t worry about it….and she
should have. Surgery followed quickly but it was too late. The cancer had
spread and we lost her in October of that same year. She was only 55 years old.
Dad decided that we still had to have our
traditional family Christmas dinner, at the family farm, same as always. Mom
would want that he said. So, came we did. The kids opened their presents and
played with new toys and games. The adults started several card games and
visited with each other. We had the big turkey dinner with all the extras.
Everyone smiled and joked. But, every once in awhile two siblings eyes would
meet and we knew… it was a farce. It was
not the same without mom. No one said a
word but we all knew this would be our last family Christmas at “home”. The next year my oldest sister asked dad if
wanted to come there for Christmas dinner and he readily agreed. He must have
known too.
After mom died I remember thinking, the
circle was broken. The glue that held our family together was gone. It would
never be the same. Christmas would never be the same. But time, and memories,
eased the pain and we all went moved forward thru life and started new
Christmas traditions with our own children and I learned to love Christmas
again. Do I still miss my mother at Christmas? Yes - at Christmas and every
day. Dad too actually. He died in his sleep from an aneurism just three years
after mom died. With my three daughters and us living in four different cities,
all six of them working, in-laws to consider;, five grandchildren, including
one in university, numerous large dogs
and cats and all the travelling involved, getting together at Christmas is
sometimes a logistic nightmare. But so far we manage to get together close, if
not on, Christmas each year. Why? Because I remember Christmas 1971. You would
think, after reading this story, that I would remember the Christmas without my
mother, but no; I remember Christmas 1971. Why? Because I learned then; you
never know when it’s going to be “the last”.
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May your Christmas be blessed with good
health and filled with wonderful memories. Be kind to each other and even to
strangers. Remember, the smile and kind words you may say to a stranger could
be the only ones they receive all day.
Blessings for a wonderful Christmas and Happy and Healthy New Year.
Violet
What a special memory, thanks for sharing it with us. We lost my sister in law last Christmas and she was the one who hosted all the gatherings for my husbands side of the family, it was really hard for them this year, I am kinda glad that we had such a different Christmas (pizza and power outage at our house) this year, new traditions. Merry late Christmas Violet. And yes, after you gave me that tip I glued that glue gun stand to a block of wood, it is awesome!
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