It is a silent night for me tonight. The day was spent by attending my great Aunt Margie’s funeral. She was buried on the same date as her brother, my grandpa, who died a few years ago. Seems people in that family like to spend Christmas together. According to someone in the family Aunt Margie said she was ready to go onto the next realm. I hope she’s happy, dancing with her husband and spending the season with the many members of her family who entered that realm before her.
A Distant Memory by The Crooked Camera
When I returned home from the funeral I spend a half hour gathering my thoughts and went on to make preparations for the annual Christmas Cheer party I have for my family. I did some cooking and baking and preparation for the most festive entertainment event I have every year. I’m preparing new recipes and also some tried and true ones, the libations are stocked, and the old victrola is ready to play some of the old 78s that were listened to by generations before me. Christmas is a time of nostalgia, a time to remember Christmases past and to romanticize Christmases before our time.
The house still smells of the buns I baked this evening and I wish they were the buns my grandma used to make. Mine were made from store-bought frozen dough, thawed and baked. Delicious, but not the same as those made from scratch by Grandma Mabel. Some day I’ll make them as well as she did; I have the old recipe complete with instructions out of her head rather than precise measurements and sure-fire techniques. Oh, to have the time to perfect her wonderful buns.
I find myself remembering Christmases of my past on this silent night. Christmas Eve on Jackson Street with the great aunts and uncles on my dad’s side. Christmas mornings at Tug Lake with a roaring fire and presents galore. Grandpa Mike looking out his picture window, telling his grandchildren Santa’s sleigh had been sighted by the weather men at the local TV news station. Grandma Harriet with her glorious Christmas Day meal. Yes, Christmas is all about nostalgia for me. And every year I build upon the nostalgia of future years.
Via Google Images
Great Aunt Margie had a lot of Christmases under her belt. Ninety-five of them. Sharp as a tack until the day she died I wonder what she would think about at Christmas time. Did she reminisce about Christmases she spent as a child on her parents’ farm? Did she miss the years gone by, or did she embrace the holidays as they came?
On this silent night I think about the generations past and the generations to come. I also think about right now. That in a few hours my family will gather at my house for food, drink, and merriment. As we celebrate the season and ourselves we’ll also be creating memories. These are the memories I want when I’m ninety-six years old like my Great Aunt Margie.
Christmas is coming. Sooner than I think. But I’m trying to maintain my cool and enjoy the minutes I’m taking in preparation. Of course there are the gifts. I’m pretty much decided on what I want to give people, some gifts which are already bought or made, others which are still on the list of things to make/buy. I don’t have long, and the longer I wait the less options I have in case something goes horribly wrong. You know, like if I can’t find what I’m looking for. And that can happen easily with a person who doesn’t like to shop anyway.
Auntie B's Wax 