Dec. 25, 2005 - 19:49 MST

BUT THE MEMORIES

This has been the day we were looking toward for some time. A happy occasion it has been to the utmost. All of our immediate family that was in town came to our family Christmas dinner at our oldest son's church. It has a great kitchen, dining room with enough folding tables and chairs to seat an army I think.

The scene changed from time to time families mixing and merging at will. The littles being spoiled or teased, what ever the occasion called for. Jeepers, I was father, grandfather or great-grandfather or in-law to most of those present.

Heather and I seated ourselves in one spot and the family rotated around us it seemed. First one and another would be sitting with us for a time, visiting and joking. No matter which way I looked a loved one would be under my eye. What a wonder it is today that it should be so for me, and a pleasure of a treasure it is for Heather. She was raised amid brothers, sisters and cousins by the dozens. A wonder for me because:

Born to a Father from New Jersey and a Mother from West Virginia, via Louisiana and Texas, with the only relatives in Denver were Dad's brother (really his uncle) and his family. Three girls and one boy. The boy about my age, one girl younger than he and I, the other girls older. About the time I started school, Grandmother went to New Mexico to work, so that left me with cousins who lived way across town. We visited now and then but Mom and Aunty did not get along too well so our visits were few.

When I was eight years and some months old the Great Depression hit and although Mom and Dad both kept their jobs, by the end of the depression their total wages were equal to what women made in those days.

I had a memory of what Christmases were like up to my eighth year so Christmases during the depression were different than I was used to.

But as most kids in my school, children of working class parents the sacrifices and privations were pretty well accepted by us as facts of life, and we went on about our way as cheerfully as kids can, under the circumstances.

There was always a tree, albeit a small one which gave us choice of which decorations to use to adorn the tree. The fresh pine smell, good old Christmas Carols playing on the radio, sung in the traditional manner back then. Mother would see to it that she took me downtown one evening before Christmas to see the big department store windows where Santa's Workshop in many different ways was portrayed with action figures and all. Thrilling to me, it was. Mother and Dad kept the Christmas Spirit alive through the season, but along with that it was plain for me to see that survival was their worry, whether either one or both would be laid off. Our neighborhood had a great proportion of folks out of work, on relief, working on WPA, PWA doing their best to eke an existence with everybody fed, clothed and housed.

We had our tree, the spirit and come Christmas morning, presents under the tree. My stocking was always full, in the toe would be two packs of Wrigley's Juicy Fruit gum, my favorite. The bulk of the stocking was filled with tangerines which to my mind always were the creme de la creme of citrus, all that flavor with a zipper rind. Usually among that would be some small thing or two, once a jackknife, one Christmas a small cheap telescope, another Christmas was a kaleidoscope. Always something interesting and fun. Most Christmases there would be one wrapped package under the tree for me. Usually a book, Bomba The Jungle Boy most of the time.

I never felt cheated, I knew kids who fared far worse than I -- that was life as it was lived back then.

The lack that was painful to me was that we had no family near to us, and few family far away. Even in the poorest of homes, family gatherings were huge, pleasant and joyful. I wanted that for myself, I wanted brothers and sisters but knew it wouldn't happen for us.

On Christmas day either my Dad would have to work or my Mother would. The two of us left at home managed to make Christmas day joyful and fun and we saved the big meal of the day for when the absent parent got home. If it was Mom at home, dinner would be ready when Dad got home. If Mom had to work, she would prepare as much ahead as she could and then do the rest when she got home. But there was warmth, love, happiness in our home -- always.

Then I met Heather and we married. Her family graciously made one of them as if I were born to them. And that was only the beginning. Our kids, as they came along usually had cousins about their age and so were run into the herd to play. Sunday at Grandma's was traditional. If you had to work through that day, you weren't there, but your mate was. Men on the second shift usually came early and left early, those on third shift split their time, some coming late some coming early - but they came. Christmas Day was the top of the heap for us all. Presents at home and presents at Grandma's. I know that I would have a new work jacket and perhaps gloves each Christmas from her.

As the old folks passed on our family kept up the traditions and gradually grew up enough to start their own families and followed that trail. Their kids are doing so also. Now Christmas is treasured to us all as a time to be together, in love, fun and happiness. As a group, a large one. But looking back to those times of just the three of us together on Christmas Eve and Christmas day --- today was great, BUT THE MEMORIES . . . . . . . . . . . .

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