The Protection of Christmas Memories

December 27, 2014 

 

This note was my part of a collection of memories written by each of the children of Tom and Sandy which were read at the annual Family Christmas at The Farm on December 27, 2014.

Even at age 50, my strongest and most enjoyable memories of Christmas come from four Christmases when I was 4, 5, 6, and 7.  What do I remember of those times?  I remember the intense joy that came with believing.  I remember my father stringing large, multi-colored light bulbs on the gutters along the front roof of our two-story house and the beauty of seeing them all lit up at night when we would return home in our station wagon after being out and about.  I remember my father putting the live Christmas tree in the stand and stringing the slightly smaller, but still large, multi-colored lights around the tree.  I remember my mother trimming the tree with garland and ornaments while us little tykes helped with the tinsel.  I remember Santa Claus coming to the Hillcrest Fire House every year where I would sit on his lap to tell him what I wanted him to bring me for Christmas.  I remember watching “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer”, “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”, “The Little Drummer Boy”, “Frosty the Snowman”, and “A Charlie Brown Christmas” on TV and then sitting up in bed all night long with older brother Tommy on Christmas Eve hoping to get a glimpse of Rudolph leading the sleigh and eight other reindeer.  I remember plotting with Tommy to go out to the barn at the stroke of midnight to see if the cows (animals) could really talk at that moment (of course, we would always fall asleep before midnight would arrive).  I remember going to midnight mass at St. Luke’s Church on Main Street in Mechanicville, NY, hearing the choir sing all my favorite Christmas carols, and noticing the unusual look of the stained glass windows without the sun shining through them to bring out their brilliant colors.  I remember waking up early on Christmas morning, walking down the stairs as the soft light from the multi-colored tree lights reflected on the wall along the left side of the stairway, and the unwrapped presents staged around the tree and other parts of the living room.  And, I remember spending hours upon hours playing joyfully with all the presents Santa Claus had brought for me while I was sleeping.

The greatest memory I have from those Christmases all these years later, however, is the memory I don’t have of one particular Christmas thanks to my incredible parents.  It was the Christmas of 1971.  My mother’s father, my grandfather, died on December 21 that year and the funeral was on Christmas Eve.  As a 7-year-old who had spent multiple summers camping with him and hundreds of meals and dozens of overnight stays with our Vermont cousins at his house across the street from the Mechanicville Little League fields, hearing of his death from my father upon returning from school that day was one of the most devastating days of my life.  The thing about that Christmas that makes my parents so incredible is that my memories have no association between the sadness of my grandfather’s death and the great joy I always experienced at Christmas.  As a 50-year-old, I find it unimaginable the strength it must have taken for them, especially my grieving mother, to forever protect the joyous memories of Christmas that I have been able to carry with me for all these years. The two of you truly are the best parents anyone could hope for!

Merry Christmas Mom and Dad!