St. Nick and bear traps

I have not been in the decorating mood for the past 3 Christmases. My sole decoration this year was to buy a Febreze luminary that has snowman on it. However I enjoy reminiscing about decorating when I was a kid. We always put the Christmas tree up on Thanksgiving day. We did this partly because my mom loved Christmas and liked to have the tree up early and also because she was home from work long enough to do it. My best memories though are of when I was young enough to still believe in the magic of Santa.

I realize now as an adult that my family had some quirky traits (as I am sure all families do), but it did not seem strange at all then. We always opened our presents on Christmas Eve. Since Santa had so many children to visit he came to see us early. My mom usually had to work on Christmas Eve, but the store closed early and she was home by about 7:00. While we were waiting for my mom to get home, my dad would pile my brothers and me in his truck to go visit Sam and Mary. They were very good friends of my dad and I always thought of them as my adopted grandparents. We would visit with them and give them a gift. I would bounce around their living room peering out the window for Old Saint Nick. Sam and Mary would usually say they had heard on the news that he had been spotted around Roanoke. I loved seeing them, but it always felt like we were there forever. Finally daddy would say it was time to go home.

On the way home he would take the long way around the river and I thought I would die before we got home. Once we arrived though my brothers and I would find presents under the tree from Santa. He had come while we were gone! Mom always had a great story to tell about his visit.

Now I should mention that in the days leading up to Christmas that my dad would tease me as was his way. He would tell me that he was going to let all the dogs loose to keep Santa from getting to our house. We had plot hounds who were wonderful animals, but also were bred to hunt. I was terrified that the dogs would attack the reindeer. Daddy would also hint that he was putting out some bear traps on the roof to catch Rudolph. I would beg him not to scare off Santa or to trap the deer. I made sure to put out treats for the reindeer along with the cookies so that Santa and the reindeer would have some incentive to dodge my dad's traps.

While we looked in awe at our gifts, my mom would tell us that when she got home that she needed to take a quick shower. When she was in the shower she heard the dogs going nuts, barking and howling outside. She'd jump out of the shower, throw on a robe, and dash outside to find Rambler (one of our most fearsome dogs) tugging on Santa's pant leg trying to stop him from getting in the house. Santa was prepared though and would throw out a huge bone to distract the dog. Then quick as wink he would wish my mom Merry Christmas and leave our gifts for us. He would stay long enough for a cookie and to take the celery and carrots to the reindeer. Santa, who had managed to dodge all my dad's obstacles, would get back in his sleigh and the reindeer would take off with the dogs nipping at their heels. Every year during my "Santa years," we would have some variation on this story and every year I believed it!

I, of course, would turn to my dad all smug and tell him that nothing he could do could keep Santa from coming. Dad would grumble and say he'd get him next year. We would then eat shrimp, open presents, and have a wonderful time. Of course my brother were older than me and were past believing in Santa, but they kept up the charade for my benefit and I suspect they enjoyed it as much as anyone.

Those years of belief were short and before long I outgrew Santa. The season was still wonderful and special, but it lost a bit of its magic. I miss the stories my parents concocted to explain Santa's visit. I'm sure some people would be shocked at my dad's way of "teasing," but that was the way he was. He did not show a lot of emotion, but I think he loved Christmas as much as any of us and I'll never forget how he tried to "catch" Santa.

Monkey

Well, it seems I am writing in my blog the same as with previous paper journals...barely at all. It is funny though because I tend to write entries in my head, but never make it to the computer to put it all down. A great deal has happened in the past month or so. I am still unsure about my job situation, but I am still hopeful that we will find some money. In the meantime I am going to keep my eyes open for a new position.

We had about a foot of snow which is rare not only because I am in Richmond, but because it happened in December. Christmas has come and gone and I had a wonderful visit with both my hubby's family and my own, albeit a short visit. My wonderful husband also bought me an acoustic guitar, something I have wanted for a long time.

On a sad note and actually the reason for this entry, my uncle passed away. It was quite sudden and I feel just awful for my family. Even worse was the realization that I have not seen that side of the family since my father passed away nine years ago. I was shocked to realize that so much time has slipped away. We never seem to see each other unless someone get married or dies. I have recently reconnected with a few cousins via Facebook, but that is no substitute for real face-to-face interaction.

I could not go to the funeral because I needed to work and it was on December 23rd, so there was really no one to take my place. The occasion was even more sad because my uncle was to be buried on the anniversary of his father, my grandfather's, death in 1985. I decided that I needed to go pay my respects though and give my aunt a hug. So I went to the visitation the night before. I expected it to be a bit awkward as I had not seen anyone since my dad's funeral. Instead I was true to my Mad Giggler ways. I went right in and hugged and talked and laughed with my family. I always find it so odd, the custom of sitting in a room with the deceased and yet being able to laugh. The best moment was seeing my other uncle and having him hug me and call me "monkey." It is a nickname he gave me when I was small and I had not thought of in years. It made me feel warm and I relaxed all over. These people are my kin and no matter what we will always have that special bond that time cannot diminish. In the midst of our grief we were able to reconnect, reminisce, and laugh. I know my aunt and my cousins were and are hurting, and I hope that no one interpreted our family reunion as disrespectful. I did get my wish of hugging my aunt and telling her how sorry I was and that I loved her. Sadly I know what this loss feels like for my cousins, but that does not make it any easier to see them have to go through it.

If anything good could come of this loss it is that I once again have been reminded how important family is. We have resolved to have a reunion this summer and I will do all I can to make sure it happens. I also like to imagine that my uncle was greeted by my dad and my grandparents and that they are now content and happy and will one day greet the rest of us. In the meantime, i hope they will gather above to watch those of us here come together to remember and to make new memories.