New Year's Eve was always a fun holiday growing up. As a child it was a treat to stay up until midnight. It felt like it took forever for the midnight hour arrive to watch Dick Clark count down the seconds and ring in the new year. There was something dazzling about ringing in the new year. It was a new start on the way I wanted my life to go. What would happen? What news events would grace our TV? What changes would come our way? It was a mystery waiting to be discovered.
My mom would fix up snacks for the night. Mostly it would contain a cheese roll, crackers, popcorn, Kool-Aid, and for the brand new year a glass of wine. Just a glass. We would sit around watching movies or playing board games such as RISK or Monopoly. The TV would be on in the background and my mom would soon let us know the new year was upon us as she would give a 15 minute warning. Our eyes would be glued to Dick Clark and the hullaballoo going on in New York City. My brother, sister and I would talk about how much fun it would be to go there in person, being part of that crowd and watching the ball fall. I still hope.
There was one time when we missed watching Dick Clark growing up. My mom was dating someone and we traveled to Holland, Michigan to celebrate the holiday with him and his family. In their family New Year's was an adult event. Children were supposed to go to bed, with the TV off, by 9. The adults stayed upstairs to ring in the new year. We were crushed. To miss Dick Clark was like missing Santa Claus. I remember crying myself to sleep that year. Even as I entered adulthood I had to watch Dick Clark. One other time I missed Dick Clark was when I went to celebrate New Year's with my sister and her family. It was around 11pm and I asked her to turn on Dick Clark. She then informs me that her TV wasn't working. I must of seemed like a deer in headlights. NO DICK CLARK! I was not going to settle for that. I grabbed my IPhone to watch it from there. My phone battery was completely dead. I was not going to settle for not watching the ball to fall. I found a ball and raised it up over my head. Someone called the phone "time" number which gave the time every 10 seconds. When the midnight hour came I dropped the ball and yelled out, "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" It wasn't the same and I hated to miss Dick Clark but I do remember that year. My children began to look forward to seeing him count down the ball falling. We were saddened by his death. It was like a part of my childhood has died. I am thankful that my older children would remember him and share in a part of my childhood tradition. My younger children will never know.
We would write out our New Year's resolutions. We would lay out and compare each other's resolutions. Mostly mine would contain better grades, to behave better (as I was a real rascal at times), lose a few pounds, and to write a story. We would seal them up in our envelopes to be opened the next year to see if we fulfilled our resolutions. Most of the time we would forget about them in two weeks. It was more than just wishes on our life. It was a plan for our life; a direction in which we wanted to go. It was a path to take into the new year. It was a chance to take a breath in our chaotic lives and to begin fresh again.
After the ball would fall we would tap our wine glasses together and sip our wine. It always made a funny butterfly feeling in my belly. We were only allowed one glass. The phone would ring and it would be Nonnie and Grandpa (my mom's parents) wishing us a happy New Year. We ran into the hall way where our phone was located attached on the wall. We would happily share with them the fun activities we did and tell them about what we watched on TV. We would try to stretch the phone cord into the living room so we can continue to see the commotion going on in New York City.
We would finally pass the phone to mom and us siblings would watch the TV together. Then as if a switch was flipped on inside of us we all started running around trying to see who can do what first in the new year.
"I was the first to pet the cat!" Marc would shout.
"I was the first to open the front door!" Yelled Lisa.
"I was the first to turn the light on and off!" I would bellow.
We ran all over the house being the first. We were even proud of being the first to use the toilet. We would run to mom, who was still on the phone, as if it were a race to be the first to give her a hug and a kiss. Everything was new again. It was, after all, a whole new year.
And then it was over. The new year was beginning. There was no going back. It is what it is. The year was young and unfamiliar. It was guaranteed that changes will take place but we didn't know what they would be or when. It was an exciting time. It still is. The memories that grow in my heart and stay with me in my mind are held dear to me. Each new year is a new journey. It's a new chapter in my life. The page continues to turn....
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Ghosts of Christmas Past
The other day my children were asking me how I celebrated Christmas when I was a child. It was fun sharing those memories with my children and I wanted to record those precious memories that I hold dear to my heart.
We always had to dress up on Christmas Eve. I remember having my hair up in curlers, putting
on a dress and trying to stretch up tights over my legs. I was no a girly girl so I loathed getting all dolled up. But once everyone was dressed up it did seem nice. My father was no longer in the picture and my mother was an only child so we didn't have the pleasure of having aunts, uncles, or cousins coming over joining in on the holiday fun. However, my grandparents, Nonnie and Grandpa, would come over bringing in gifts that would break Santa's back. They would enter our door, stomping the snow off their feet, also dressed up, with beautiful packages of bows and ribbons stuffed in bags that hung off their arms. My sister, brother and I would happily relieve them from the packages and run to the tree to place them under it. We would look to see whose gift is whose and try to guess what is in each box. Soon the tree would be overfilling with presents. The dreaded part would be waiting for the adults to finish talking and visiting so us children could open the presents.
Soon the time was upon us for gifts to be opened. We gathered in a circle around the living room, my mom and Nonnie would sit on the couch, my Grandpa would sit in a rocking recliner chair, and two of us children would sit in these green swivel rocking chairs. The other child was granted the position of Santa and got the privilege of passing out the presents one at time. Usually my grandpa would choose which child got to be Santa. The adults would try to pick and choose which present the "Santa" should hand out first. Us, kids, were eager to give out our school made decorations as gifts to other family members as we were to receive gifts from them.
One by one the gifts would be passed out. We had to stop and sing Jingle Bells as each person opened their gift. It made the night last longer. The custom would be if the person didn't open the gift after the song was sang (the shorter version of the song) then the gift was given back to the giver. Of course no one returned the gift as it was just in jest. But it did make the opening of the present seem frantic and quick. Slowly the pile of presents under the tree began to shrink down in size until there were none left. Over the years my sister and I got into this competition of who would open the last gift. She would even hide some gifts under the couch and then afterwards pull them out to be the last person to open a gift. I caught on and I would start hiding them too. One year we both had 3 to 4 gifts hidden and we both would think we had the last one until she would pull out a gift and then I would pull out a gift from hiding. We laughed so hard thinking how clever we both were yet being outsmarted by each other. I don't remember who opened the last gift but I remember the fun of it.
We were then shuffled off to bed donning our new pajamas that we just received. One year we each had matching Star War Pajamas. Another year I remember having the Dukes of Hazzard pajamas. It was red with Daisy Duke in the middle with a horse. My sister and I would go to our bedroom and my brother off to his room while the adults would stay up talking. It always seemed hard to fall asleep but eventually sleep found us and the night drifted away.
The morning was always a magical moment. One of us would wake up remembering that it was Christmas morning. We would tip toe out to the living room to see if we were good children by the gifts that are laid under the tree. Smiles would come across our face as we see our artificial tree all light up with presents laid out all underneath it. We would wake up the other siblings still trying to be quiet and sharing in the magical moment with just us siblings. We knew we couldn't open up the presents without mom awake so we just examined the presents and took a peek in our stockings that were propped up on the couch. Plastic candy canes filled with candy and smaller wrapped gifts spill out from the top of the stockings. We would feel the toe of the red stocking with our names glittered on the top and feel a round object. It was an orange. We always knew there was an orange in the stockings. Some of our gifts were left unwrapped and put out for show. Sometimes it was a stuffed animal or a large toy. We still waiting to play with it until mom woke up. It was like some unspoken rule.
When we couldn't take the suspense anymore we would invade mom's room and all jump around on her bed trying to wake her up. Her blood shot eyes from lack of sleep would try to open. She would try to plead for a few more hours of sleep but to no avail. We were persistent. We managed to negotiate by letting her have a cup of coffee before we opened our gifts. She would slip on her floor length robe and make her way to the kitchen for a bit of caffeine encouragement to start the day.
The time arrived for us to open our presents. Our gifts are always placed in a certain area around the tree. My spot was in front of the tree. My sister Lisa's presents were located to the left of the tree and my brother Marc's gifts were to the right of the tree. We all took our places in front of our sections ready to attack and rip up the wrappings. Mom would listen to our ooh's and aaah's as each gift is opened. Every gift is well loved. We would pick up the remainders of the wrappings and throw away the boxes. Our gifts were placed back under the tree in our same sections. Then we went to dig through our stockings. We would share what we each had and start sampling some of the tasty goodies we find.
Later on that day Nonnie and Grandpa would come over to see what Santa has given to us. We would show off all our surprises to them. Our gifts would stay out under the tree for the remainder of the week as we would play with them on and off. It was fun to keep seeing them under the tree during winter break from school.
I am very blessed to have wonderful memories of Christmas past. Few gifts stand out in my memory of what I received, many I have forgot about. But the important ones, the ones of having family close by and the Christmas magic will stay in my heart forever.
 |
| This pic was taken about 1979. I am I the middle. My sister is to the left of me and my brother is to the right of me. |
on a dress and trying to stretch up tights over my legs. I was no a girly girl so I loathed getting all dolled up. But once everyone was dressed up it did seem nice. My father was no longer in the picture and my mother was an only child so we didn't have the pleasure of having aunts, uncles, or cousins coming over joining in on the holiday fun. However, my grandparents, Nonnie and Grandpa, would come over bringing in gifts that would break Santa's back. They would enter our door, stomping the snow off their feet, also dressed up, with beautiful packages of bows and ribbons stuffed in bags that hung off their arms. My sister, brother and I would happily relieve them from the packages and run to the tree to place them under it. We would look to see whose gift is whose and try to guess what is in each box. Soon the tree would be overfilling with presents. The dreaded part would be waiting for the adults to finish talking and visiting so us children could open the presents.
 |
| This was taken about 1983. I am in the middle. My brother is to the left of me. My sister is to the right of me. A friend of my mom dressed up as Santa to surprise us. |
Soon the time was upon us for gifts to be opened. We gathered in a circle around the living room, my mom and Nonnie would sit on the couch, my Grandpa would sit in a rocking recliner chair, and two of us children would sit in these green swivel rocking chairs. The other child was granted the position of Santa and got the privilege of passing out the presents one at time. Usually my grandpa would choose which child got to be Santa. The adults would try to pick and choose which present the "Santa" should hand out first. Us, kids, were eager to give out our school made decorations as gifts to other family members as we were to receive gifts from them.
One by one the gifts would be passed out. We had to stop and sing Jingle Bells as each person opened their gift. It made the night last longer. The custom would be if the person didn't open the gift after the song was sang (the shorter version of the song) then the gift was given back to the giver. Of course no one returned the gift as it was just in jest. But it did make the opening of the present seem frantic and quick. Slowly the pile of presents under the tree began to shrink down in size until there were none left. Over the years my sister and I got into this competition of who would open the last gift. She would even hide some gifts under the couch and then afterwards pull them out to be the last person to open a gift. I caught on and I would start hiding them too. One year we both had 3 to 4 gifts hidden and we both would think we had the last one until she would pull out a gift and then I would pull out a gift from hiding. We laughed so hard thinking how clever we both were yet being outsmarted by each other. I don't remember who opened the last gift but I remember the fun of it.
We were then shuffled off to bed donning our new pajamas that we just received. One year we each had matching Star War Pajamas. Another year I remember having the Dukes of Hazzard pajamas. It was red with Daisy Duke in the middle with a horse. My sister and I would go to our bedroom and my brother off to his room while the adults would stay up talking. It always seemed hard to fall asleep but eventually sleep found us and the night drifted away.
The morning was always a magical moment. One of us would wake up remembering that it was Christmas morning. We would tip toe out to the living room to see if we were good children by the gifts that are laid under the tree. Smiles would come across our face as we see our artificial tree all light up with presents laid out all underneath it. We would wake up the other siblings still trying to be quiet and sharing in the magical moment with just us siblings. We knew we couldn't open up the presents without mom awake so we just examined the presents and took a peek in our stockings that were propped up on the couch. Plastic candy canes filled with candy and smaller wrapped gifts spill out from the top of the stockings. We would feel the toe of the red stocking with our names glittered on the top and feel a round object. It was an orange. We always knew there was an orange in the stockings. Some of our gifts were left unwrapped and put out for show. Sometimes it was a stuffed animal or a large toy. We still waiting to play with it until mom woke up. It was like some unspoken rule.
When we couldn't take the suspense anymore we would invade mom's room and all jump around on her bed trying to wake her up. Her blood shot eyes from lack of sleep would try to open. She would try to plead for a few more hours of sleep but to no avail. We were persistent. We managed to negotiate by letting her have a cup of coffee before we opened our gifts. She would slip on her floor length robe and make her way to the kitchen for a bit of caffeine encouragement to start the day.
The time arrived for us to open our presents. Our gifts are always placed in a certain area around the tree. My spot was in front of the tree. My sister Lisa's presents were located to the left of the tree and my brother Marc's gifts were to the right of the tree. We all took our places in front of our sections ready to attack and rip up the wrappings. Mom would listen to our ooh's and aaah's as each gift is opened. Every gift is well loved. We would pick up the remainders of the wrappings and throw away the boxes. Our gifts were placed back under the tree in our same sections. Then we went to dig through our stockings. We would share what we each had and start sampling some of the tasty goodies we find. Later on that day Nonnie and Grandpa would come over to see what Santa has given to us. We would show off all our surprises to them. Our gifts would stay out under the tree for the remainder of the week as we would play with them on and off. It was fun to keep seeing them under the tree during winter break from school.
 |
| Early 80's. I was to the right and my sister is to the left. |
 |
| Probably 1980. My brother shows off his new Muppet drum set. |
 |
| Probably 1984. My brother shows off a toy tool kit he received. The metal yellow stove and microwave in the background was one of my gifts that year. I can still feel the creek of the metal hinges and the grind of it as I would open and close the oven door. |
I am very blessed to have wonderful memories of Christmas past. Few gifts stand out in my memory of what I received, many I have forgot about. But the important ones, the ones of having family close by and the Christmas magic will stay in my heart forever.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)