A Few Christmas Memories

What follows are a couple of memories from Holidays past. Merry Christmas to you all and to your families!

All Hearts Go Home For Christmas
December, 2004:

They say all hearts go home for Christmas, and mine is certainly in Kannapolis right now. Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, and I’m missing being there the most during this time of the year. 

I have wonderful memories of Christmas in K-Town, the lights downtown, and the Santa that used to float in the mill lake. Those times are still magical, especially in my desperately homesick mind, and I can’t help but to try to relive them every chance I get. 

Christmas always started for my brother, sister, and I on the day that school would let out early for the Kannapolis Christmas parade. My parents would park in the Aycock Elementary School parking lot, and we’d hike over the railroad tracks to “our” spot across the street from Table Supply. 

The streets would fill, the parade would start, and we would jump and peek, trying to spy Santa first. My mother would make popcorn, filling paper grocery bags, and we would stand together, bundled in blankets and laughing out loud. 

Following the parade, we helped finish the last of the decorating that my father would start on the day after Thanksgiving. There were candles to put in the windows, ornaments for the trees, and my brother, sister, and I were always responsible for the downstairs tree…because that was where Santa would come. 

The excitement and magic would increase exponentially for us as Christmas drew nearer. One year, we drove down to McAdenville, and I remember sitting on the exit ramp, in a long line of traffic. My mother asked my father if he heard noises, and my father said that he did. She looked out the front window, and the side ones, and this intense look came over her face. She turned to us in the back seat, and whispered, “Look out the back window. Be very, very quiet. Do you see anything?” 

A red light was soaring through the sky. “Looks like a reindeer to me,” she whispered. My siblings and I were awestruck, staring at the backdrop of stars that the red light was moving through. Only seconds passed, it seems, until we were in McAdenville, the lights even more magical with the possibility of glimpsing more reindeer, or perhaps Santa himself. 

Our weekends would weave through Christmas parties and last minute mall shopping. There’d be Christmas pageants at church, and fun activities at school—all leading up to Christmas Eve. 

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!

Santa Is Real

Christmas Eve, 2007

 Liz and I are so excited, partly because Lily is coming into a really fun age and we think she'll have a good time tomorrow, but also because we are thrilled to be able to give Christmas to someone else. Giving gifts is one thing, but being able to give this feeling, these emotions, the whole season and reason, is something we've both looked forward to for a long, long time. I hope that many years from now, when Lily looks back on this, she'll know how much Christmas means to our family and that she will have many, many wonderful memories of the Christmases we have given her.

This is just the beginning. A first in what will become decades and dozens of Christmas experiences for all of us. If there was ever any doubt about the existence of Santa, this feeling alone should be all the proof anyone would need. Liz and I love that we have a lifetime of Christmases to prepare for--to create, to mold, to imagine--and we love that we now have our own beneficiary of all that we dream up for years to come.

I'm sitting here on the computer; my 10-month-old daughter is fast asleep in the next room. I'm sure the visions dancing in her head are far from sugarplums, more likely they have to do with tissue paper, Cheerios, and Dora the Explorer.

I feel like I've spent my whole life getting ready for tomorrow. I've always loved Christmas and everything associated with it. I love giving gifts and I enjoy seeing the smiles when you surprise someone special with just the right thing!

But never in my life have I been in the position of giving "Christmas" to someone. It's a completely different feeling than giving a gift. I'm about to give a lifetime of meaning and memories, and begin a seasonal path that will hopefully lead to a life spent being kind, caring, conscientious, and giving. I feel a little overwhelmed and emotional that I am getting ready to pass on to my child one of the things I've loved the most about life: Christmas.

I feel a renewed sense of hope for a bright future, full of memories waiting to be created. I’m more excited about this Christmas than I think I've ever been. 

Tonight's the night that I become Santa.