CHRISTMAS MEMORIES – CHRISTMAS EVE

Christmas Eve does not have a mold or an ideal. It’s just about being together with the ones you love.

Christmas fills me with nostalgia. Memories sweep over me. Into every inch of my being with smiles and tears. That’s life. The interesting thing about memories is they’re our own. Whether they’re completely accurate or not really doesn’t matter. They’re ours. Family members may have totally different ones, remembering the past through their eyes. And that’s ok. Our memories are our memories.

I don’t remember my childhood Christmas Eves. Strange, right? I do have childhood Christmas Day memories but for those you’ll have to wait. They’ll be in my next post.

My grownup Christmas Eve traditions have changed many times over the years.

First there were the married but pre-children ones when we would alternate travelling to our parents homes each Christmas. One year to mine in Charlottetown, PEI and and the next to my late husband David’s in Woodstock, New Brunswick. Do you remember always arranging your life around the Borden/Cape Tormentine ferry departure times? I’m sure we all have those same memories. Pure excitement and relief when you made it and utter disappointment and frustration when you didn’t. Especially if you were that last car that almost made it. (And always putting aside a $20 bill to pay the ferry fee on your way back.)

And life changed

We had children. Three beautiful children.

The most exciting Christmas Eves were after our children were born. Aren’t most peoples. With the birth of our first child we made the decision to always celebrate Christmas Eve and Day in our own home. We wanted to create memories.

On Boxing Day, for two years, we travelled to Woodstock, New Brunswick to spend time with David’s family. The second year we had continuous car trouble on the way there-no heat in the car. Brrrr. Hard with a baby in a car seat who didn’t want to keep a blanket over him. That year my father-in-law met us in Fredericton, NB. Baby and I transferred into his car so we could get warm. How heavenly that felt. Thereafter my in-laws made the wise but I’m sure very difficult decision that in future they would travel to us.

Oh my. Those were busy days. My mom and brother (my father had died previously), David’s mom, dad, sister, grandmother, and us. (eventually the three children.) So much hustle and bustle. Such laughter and excitement. And I’m sure a bit of growling. The two moms plus the grandmother took complete control of the kitchen. Lucky me. And presents that spilled halfway into the room as they couldn’t all fit under the tree. Christmas Eve was also the one time we all went to church together. And Jean Sheen, at that time the church’s outstanding organist and choir director and overall lovely lady, would have me sing a solo, usually Sweet Little Jesus Boy, or O Holy Night. Then back home, kids put in jammies, and opened one Christmas present each. To choose a big one or a small one? Such decisions. Great memories.

But deaths happened.

And life changed.

First David’s grandmother died. (She was known as GG to my kids because she said it would take too long for her great grandchildren to say Great Grandmother. And she wasn’t waiting for that.)

David’s parents bought a place to winter in Florida; a double wide in a senior’s trailer park and therefore spent future Christmases there. (They couldn’t previously because GG lived with them.)

With these changes new memories were born.

I’m sure if you asked my children they’d say their strongest and fondest Christmas memory was the arrival of my mom every Christmas Eve day. They’d just be bouncing with excitement. Grammie Ruby, with a car laden with presents and treats, would appear in our driveway. Plus her ever present two handled wicker basket that always had extra special treats for immediate consumption. She was our constant.

Our next door neighbours, Charles and Lorraine, would come over later in the evening (after we returned from church and all children were asleep) to relax. Ha Ha. Relax? Nope. Those two men took on the arduous task of putting together toys/castles etc that came in hundreds of pieces with dubious directions. Super calming. Right.

Then my father-in-law died and a year later my husband followed him. Earth shattering.

And life changed.

We were determined to carry on our traditions. We continued (Mom, my three kids, and I) going to the Christmas Eve service but I took a few years off from the solos. Just didn’t have the heart to sing.

But time passed and those all consuming intense feelings of devastation began to lessen. Eventually I was emotionally ready to sing again and continued with the former tradition of singing on Christmas Eve. Thanks Christine Anderson Gallant for your encouragement to sing at these again. But not O Holy Night. Minuses became pluses and this offered me the opportunity to include other beautiful solos into my Christmas Eve repertoire: Gesu Bambino (The Infant Jesus), Mary had a Baby, Mary Did You Know, Maria Weigenleid (Mary’s Cradle Song) plus Sweet Little Jesus Boy. I loved them all and what a gift to share in these special evenings.

Gesu Bambino

My goodness. All totalled I must have sung at the Christmas Eve services for over thirty years. The hardest and saddest part was one year finding out a week before Christmas (from my hair stylist as he knew someone from the church) that the church was apparently going in a new direction and I wouldn’t be singing. That hurt. To this day I have no idea why someone from the church didn’t tell me.

And life changed.

We settled into another new version of Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve suppers became a gourmet delight of numerous appetizers. Yummy. Later it was homemade lasagna or homemade pizza. But the pièce de résistance was when Mom, the three kids, and I all sat together watching Home Alone and Christmas Vacation. We got to know the movies so well that we’d start roaring with laughter in anticipation of what was going to happen. Great memories.

And life changed

For a few years my brother and his family celebrated with us. And even after Mom (Grammie Ruby) had a stroke they/we still brought her up for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. She was always worried about that. Missing Christmas with us. My daughter married (I have the best son-in- law ever) but they still came home for Christmas. My brother and his family moved to Alberta but then, as many Islanders do, eventually moved back to PEI. Twenty years after my husband died a wonderful man, Richard, came into my life. I know. Never expected that to happen. What a blessing to be able to share these later years of my life with someone. As a dear friend (whose husband also died years ago and has since met someone) told me the other day, “We seem to think that is how life has to be. I just did not realize how lonely I was until this all happened.” How true.

And life changed.

Mom died. Big change. Humongous change.

This is my favourite gift from her. Each ceramic piece lovingly created by her with the assistance of my Aunt Vera. What a treasure.

Then the whole world changed.

Pandemic hit. Only immediate family for Christmas. We made it work.

And life changed.

New grandson. First grandchild. What a joy he is. Love him so much. 😍 His first Christmas. Super excited. New memories being created. Finally my brother and family can come for Christmas dinner plus this year my niece’s boyfriend from England is coming. Wonderful. (Because of international travel we’re all going to be very proactive and take a Covid test Christmas morning as keeping the baby healthy is our first priority. Last week I arrived from Alabama as Richard and I winter there.) The hardest part is my daughter and son-in-law are back in Toronto and won’t be here. I’ll miss them. 🥲

New life. New changes. New memories.

Christmas Eve – Trans-Siberian Orchestra

Take care and stay healthy.

As always, thanks for your interest and thank you for reading.

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