As Paul Harvey Would Say, Here's The Rest of The Story...

It is 2:30 am, and I waited too long to take the Tylenol, so my mouth and I are awake. I thought it would be good time to post the rest of the Christmas article that should be in the paper today. What's published in the paper may be edited from what's written here. Unfortunately, I do not have complete control over publishing decisions...

Happy Holidays!


My mother’s entire extended family gets together on Christmas Eve, and everyone takes a turn hosting. As kids, we always enjoyed Aunt Peggy’s house, as well as Aunt Ann’s and Uncle Mel’s. All the cousins would be there, and we’d play, poking around the Christmas tree trying to figure out what may be in the biggest boxes. Grandma Adams used to give the kids these giant boxes of Juicy Fruit gum. We would try to chew whole packs, before we got noticed and reminded to chew just one piece at a time.

After the Christmas Eve gathering, we’d drive home, scouting for reindeer, looking for snowflakes—wondering if Santa had already come in our absence. Later, we’d go to church for Christmas Eve services and sing carols by candlelight. It would be after midnight before we got into bed, exhausted, but still more than excited.

Early Christmas morning, one of us kids would wake up early, and get the others out of bed. We would stand in front of my parents’ door and whisper, “I think Santa has been here.” We would whisper increasingly louder until we were acknowledged, and then wait impatiently for our parents to get up and get ready.

My father would go downstairs first, and get the fire going. Then he would position himself at the bottom of the stairs with the video camera. My mother would go down to the couch, and my father would give the signal that we could come on down.

We would bolt like lightning down the steps to see what Santa had brought, always in a frenzy, with wrapping paper flying, and gasping in magical wonder. We’d spend the day with grandparents and other family, coming home to nap in the midst of torn paper and new toys.

As I get closer to Christmas this year, the homesickness is increasing as much as the excitement. The memories help, but the only gift that matters to me is being with the ones I love. I hope you and your families have a wonderful, memorable, and blessed holiday. I can’t wait to get home for a visit and see all of you that I miss so much!