Memories from the Heart

Borrowed from Google Search

Merry Christmas Eve!!! Today is filled with time with my guys, finishing up my baking and treat making, and wrapping all the presents. I always wrap on Christmas Eve because the kids are so nosy and we don't really have a decent place to store the gifts without them being accidentally kicked across the room.

My mind flickers to the Christmas Eves of my childhood. We would load up and drive the 25 miles to my Memaw's house to Christmas it up there.

We'd have lunch, usually a repeat of the Thanksgiving feast - turkey, dressing, and all of the glorious sides- and then the adults would lounge on the couch combating a turkey coma while we kids would impatiently wait for time to open gifts. This was the perfect time to practice giving puppy dog eyes and teach this art to younger siblings and cousins. Being the eldest of all the grandchildren, this was my burden to bear.

Sometimes Santa would come by to visit before his long journey began. He'd drop in to make sure we were still behaving, checking if some of our names might need to be moved to the Naughty list. That was definitely an attention getter! You did NOT want to mess up hours before he came.

After the gifts were given, all of the younguns would flock to the playroom to bask in the glory of our new gifts, sharing with the little ones, or depending on the weather, we might dash outside and accost the swingset or perform a show on top of the cellar. The women-folk would visit in the kitchen while the men would chat about football or hunting.

Christmas at Memaw's also meant egg nog. Oh, glorious egg nog!!! The creamy concoction, nectar from heaven. Egg nog was served in little squatty glasses adorned with oranges and leaves near the rim. I thought these glasses were beautiful. They were the official egg nog glasses. It just didn't taste the same if it was served in another glass. These glasses were magic.

Sometimes we kids would gather around the TV, sitting on the floor in a little huddled group, to watch Home Alone. Nothing says Christmas like watching a kid protect his home from bad guys.

The revelry would die down and we'd all head back home around 8:00 pm. Occasionally one brother would zonk out before we made it home, and the other one and I would peer out the window contemplating if the flashing lights in the sky were Santa's sleigh or an airplane.

It seems so long ago that we had those Christmas Eves at Memaw's. Almost another life ago. It's been over a year since she passed away, but longer since we celebrated at her house. She suffered from severe dementia and had to move to an assisted living facility several years ago. It was like we started losing her when the dementia was taking hold. It was almost like she had passed long before she physically did. Dementia and Alzheimer's are wicked things. Thieves stealing a person's life in tiny bites. A sponging, cheeky, parasite that allows you to watch the light leave through the eyes and forces the relationship flip-flop where the child becomes the parent and vice versa.

But those days are done and I prefer to think back before those two jumped in and changed everything. I slip back to the Memaw of my childhood, the memories I'll always treasure, the magic of family on Christmas Eve.

I'll close this post with a story from last year. It was the first Christmas since she had passed away and my heart was weeping. My mind was flooded with memories all day in a beautiful, yet painful rush. I was able to tamp it down all day until right at dusk. I decided to take the dogs outside to do their business and have a little cry alone. (I hate crying. It makes me feel weak and weakness gets you nowhere.) I remember thinking, "Oh, Memaw, I miss you. I've missed you for a long time, but I really am missing you today." 

So I'm standing on the porch looking at the cluster of oak trees just behind my house, tears running down my cheeks, just taking a fragile human moment before I step back inside and become Super Mom again. Out of the blue, a bright red cardinal zips out of the trees, flies a few loopty-loops, perches on a branch and watches me for several minutes. I stand frozen, barely breathing, watching this tiny red bird, one of her favorites. Time stood still for a handful of precious seconds. A flood of peace washes over me and I know it's her saying hi. She came to see me on the day I'm missing her so badly, on the day that we would all be gathered at her house. She came to see family.

I know there's a logical explaination for this, but to me it was a gift and one I cherish in the deepest depths of my heart.

While I wrap gifts today, my mind will drift back to her. We'll have a grand old time. Too bad I don't have any egg nog or it would be perfect.