Christmas Memory -Final

Once all the ornaments are on the tree, it's time for the finale:  candy canes.

Even candy canes bring back the memory of our Australian Shepherd Jakedog.  Jake loved candy canes. Each morning one cane would be missing and Jake would have peppermint breath.  The candy canes remind me of the choir I once directed. We found out that candy canes were perfect for sore vocal cords.  I still keep the candy canes in my office after Christmas for the occasional bout of laryngitis.

But  that is not the end of  this Christmas memory tree saga.

In the living room is the tree that once stood on a table at Gary's father's house.

Then there's the small tree here in the office and another in my bedroom.  We ordinarily would have little trees on the deck but winter came before we had time.

We are awash in lights and memories.

----
This afternoon, I watched my eight-year-old grandson climb up on a piano bench and play "Up on the House Top" on a grand piano during his piano recital.  I had two reactions:  intense pride at his accomplishment and extreme jealousy that he got to play that beautiful instrument. 

Christmas Memories - 11 - Angels

A continuing theme around my memory tree is the angel.

My friend Elizabeth Miller of Invercargill, New Zealand used to send me an angel every Christmas though the increased cost of air mail brought an end to it. One of my favorites is this naked baby angel:

Somewhere on the tree is an angel made almost completely of paper clips (can't find it right now) that I think also came from Liz.

This ornament came from my oldest sister who gave me quite a few crocheted and knitted ornaments:

I don't remember who gave me this angel but I think it might have come from my friend Susan.

For years, I looked for a tree topper.  I tried spires and fancy ribbons but they never fit very well. Then two years ago at an after Christmas sale, I found this angel.

 I think I spent 25 cents on it. It is cheap, but because it is seven feet up, it is fine unless someone climbs a ladder for a better look.

***

Wade Peterson wrote another Christmas story which will help the reader avoid overeating during the holidays. We do try to provide a public service:
http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com/2013/12/pick-your-poison.html

Christmas Memories - 10

Each year, our local funeral home places a memorial tree at the city museum decorated with the names of those people who died during the year. I took my mother's ornament home with me and there it is on my tree year after year.

Look a bough or two farther along and you find the latest generation.When Evan was two years old, his mother took his photo for this Christmas ornament

She recorded him saying "I love you Grandma. Merry Christmas!" It was so charming I had to show it to a friend after the holidays, but instead of playing the recording, I pushed the little switch the other way and recorded, thereby erasing my grandson's voice.

The next year, Tisha had three-year-old Evan record the same message and Chris but a bit of electrical tape on the ornament so I can't record over it.

I think Evan was in kindergarten or preschool when he made this star with the music for "Silent Night". Now he is taking piano lessons.  I expect a year from now he'll be able to play the song.

Will I live long enough to place a great-grandchild's offerings on my tree?

Christmas Memories - 9

I think Chris was still young when my youngest sister gave me Twelve Days of Christmas ceramic ornaments for my tree.

It was easy enough to put them on the tree but when the time came to put them back in the box, there was a problem. I always take the ornaments off before I remove the lights to avoid breakage. Every year, without fail, one of the twelve days is missing.  Sometimes I find that one under the tree, sometimes Gary finds it when he finally is taking the tree down.  Yet not a single one of those ornaments is chipped.

One of the charms of Christmas Eve is grandson Evan looking for all twelve. Last year he insisted on getting them in order.

Year after year, the Twelve Days are there giving me grief.  I even had to search for ten minutes to photograph these three!

***
Last minute shoppers:  all my books are available at Amazon.com.  E-books, too!
The Glen Valley Compact
Decades of Love and Other Disasters
Yesterday's Secrets, Tomorrow's Promises
Black Coffee Fiction, volume 1 (with Wade Peterson)
Black Coffee Fiction, volume 2 (with Bettyann Moore and Wade Peterson)

Christmas Memories - 8

In the mid 1990s, something unusual happened in Seymour.  Dean's Den, a florist shop, opened on South Main Street. What was unusual were the proprietors, Marv and Norm, two openly gay men. There have been homosexuals in Seymour as long as I can remember and probably since the beginning of the town.What was different was that these men were open about their sexual proclivities. I was delighted they were here. It was a sign that Seymour was growing up, I thought. I probably was one of the first to welcome them.

I worried about their reception in the town but to my surprise, nobody bothered them. They even became popular, particularly among the townswomen. They had new and unusual designs for their floral work and a boutique of unusual items. They went off to the annual bridal show each year with their displays and found work all over the Fox River Valley.

The one I had the most to do with was Norm. He had lawn chairs in front of the shop. I often joined him there for a nice round of catty gossip. What a wicked sense of humor he had, even worse than mine.

They were here because Norm was taking care of his elderly mother who lived in Pulaski. He told me he would stay as long as she lived but in only a few years she died. The shop closed almost immediately.  It was at the closing sale that I added to the music theme on my Christmas tree with a half dozen musician ornaments.

Marv and Norm moved to California and for three years I received Christmas cards from them. Like so many people I've known, they faded out of my life.

As long as those band members march around my tree, Norm and Dean are still here in my memories. I like to think they are still alive and now married. I wish I knew.

Christmas Memories - 7

My mother and I were spending a day shopping for Christmas presents. We had lunch and were heading home on Mason Street when we noticed that the Ben Franklin store was having a sale. We decided to take a look. In those days before the Hobby Lobby, the Ben Franklin stores were "craft centre".  We wandered around in the store but all I found was a basket full of tiny teddy bears. They were on clearance for 10 cents each. My mother insisted on buying eight for me. I think they were supposed to be added to some craft or cleverly dressed but all I ever did was put them on the the tree.

I picked up another bear at a rummage sale, this one dressed up.

That made nine teddy bears. The years passed.  Chris married Tisha who loves teddy bears. She must have several hundred of them. Chris is afraid to go to carnivals because that would mean even more. Tisha noticed the bears on the tree and soon there was another.

It's not quite another theme but if Tisha had her way.....

Each year, those teddy bears remind me of three others.

When Chris was born, my friend Norma gave him an Italian teddy bear, nice and squishy.  I loved that bear but Chris never took to it. He was not a teddy bear type of baby.

Years later, Chris and I were walking through a department store and passed a display of white teddy bears. They were so soft.  I told Chris that I never had a teddy bear when I was little, just some kind of little stuffed toy that looked like an egg.  "Why don't you buy one?" Chris asked.

"Because a teddy bear should be given to you by someone who loves you," I said, though really, a teddy bear was out of my price range.

That Christmas, Chris gave me a teddy bear. I still love it.

And years later, I received yet another teddy bear, this time from my grandson. When I squeeze its paw, there's a recording of my grandson's voice saying, "I love you, Grandma!"

Teddy bears remind me that there is love just within my reach.

Christmas Memories - 6

I was directing a church choir and chairing an ecumenical Christmas concert in those early days but I was finding that for some reason I was oh, so sick every Christmas, coughing and sneezing and losing my voice. I sucked on lozenges to get through the season but I never recovered until mid-January. I considered it my yearly cold until I finally remembered that my grandmother (my father's mother) and my aunt Florence both were allergic to Christmas trees.

I could no longer have a real tree even one from a dumpster. My mother came to the rescue with a sizeable check for a good artificial tree.

Now my mother sometimes gave me a check for a Christmas present for myself. She figured she didn't have to shop and she felt I needed nice clothes.  I would take her check, find some nice like new outfit at Goodwill and put it in a Marshall Fields box, wrap it and put it under her tree. The balance would go for presents for Chris.  OK, it was sneaky, but we were really hard up for money. My mother never knew the difference, I had a nice piece of clothing and Chris had better presents than he would have had.

This year I needed a tree. I put it off as long as I could. Finally I went to Menards three days before Christmas to see if I could get a good deal.  I was thinking I would get a short table top tree and would have to make do with that.

Instead, I arrived when the store was taking down the Christmas displays. I made an offer and found myself with a seven foot tree. Even better, it came with lights and ornaments.  Suddenly, Chris and I had a beautiful tree that required no home made paper decorations.  The lights looked like poinsettias, the ornaments were musical instruments.

And I had around $50 left I could spend on Chris!

The lights finally wore out after perhaps twenty years, but the ornaments are still with me. Five years ago, at a post Christmas sale, I found a dozen drums for a dollar. Two years ago at a rummage sale I found a box of eighteen more of the expensive gold colored instruments for $2.00.

Yesterday, during the book signing at Sissy's, I found two wooden instruments.  

I no longer direct a choir and the ecumenical concert ceased to exist a few years ago, but the music is still with me on my tree.