Day 9

A Letter from Anne

Dear Mom and Dad,

We are so blessed to have you.

My earliest memories of Christmas were when I was about 5. Christmas eve was a trip to Grandma and Grandpa Middlebrook’s. They had an awesome aluminum tree lit by rotating projected tri-color light and a large plastic lit Santa in the yard. You know those are collectables now? Wonder what happened to those? Always thought the trolls were part of the Christmas decorations, but they kept them out all year. Someone would be playing Christmas songs on the piano. The table would be spread with all sorts of goodies. It is where I first encountered smoked oysters. I ate the whole tin that year. Tinned oysters never tasted as good since, but I regret nothing.

During the drive back, I would gaze upward and convince myself that one of the twinkles in the sky was Santa’s sleigh. I would fall asleep in the car. I remember stopping at Aunt Frannie’s and Uncle Ed’s. They had that ground bologna.  Sorry, not a fan. It smelled like farts then – and still does- you can’t convince me otherwise – can’t cut that smell with relish. Their kitchen and dining rooms were so small, but everyone was crammed in despite the spacious living room.

Once home, I’d toss and turn in bed unable to sleep –  so excited about Christmas morning. I remember when I heard the rustling of the packages in the hall. I peeked to discover <spoiler> mom and dad putting the presents under the tree. I don’t think I was surprised to discover the truth about Santa. Went back to bed with my suspicions confirmed.

Christmas morning started with Grandpa Hendges and sleighbells. Still music to my ears. We kids had been awake well before dawn, eager and squirrelly. Of course, I remember we were very patient – as we were wonderful children – while periodically bothering mom and dad to get out of bed SO WE COULD OPEN OUR PRESENTS. I am certain mom and dad appreciated our patience as I never recall any cussing or swearing.  Only years later did I figure out the snoozing-in was because they were up late wrapping and placing packages under the tree. At least that is what I think was happening. Correct me if wrong. Still, I remember the wait – it was like, hours. Breakfast was French toast, ham, and pancakes at Grandma and Grandpa Hendges, followed by opening more presents. The sleigh bells were hung on the doorknob.

We’ve all grown, but the gathering still happens. Mom and Dad – every Christmas memory is a gift. We’re glad you’re here. Love you.

Love you always and Merry Christmas!

Anne