Wonderful! That’s what my expectation of the upcoming Christmas was to be…for the first time in four years nearly all the family would be together. I had bought enough food to feed the Russian Army (an expression used in my family…I have no idea of the origin). Besides gifts, under the tree was a paper bag for each of us, representing the non-existent stockings which had vanished years earlier. Ah, it was to be a Christmas to remember!
Daughter Lyn and granddaughter Andrea had arrived by bus, looking a little limp but cheerful and Roman was due about 9 p.m., so we chased off to Christmas Eve service , sang carols together (a first as I usually sit in the choir), and arrived home to find Roman’s truck in the driveway. “Hurry, hurry”, I said to myself as we all piled into the house, not wanting to miss a moment of our togetherness.
Roman was exhausted so we sent him down to the basement to sleep and continued to chatter for an hour or so. Much later, a noise in the night woke me briefly. Next morning Roman confessed he had turned on the lamp on the headboard shelf and pulled the whole business out of the wall. No big deal, I never liked that setup anyway.
So began our Christmas morning. In an attempt to jolly it up I decided to make a large batch of scrambled eggs with green peppers. Daughter Lyn had loved it as a girl and we’d had it every Christmas. When we sat down together at the table, Andrea took one look at it and confessed that she really didn’t like green peppers…so ends a family tradition as she is the only granddaughter.
It was time to head out to the acreage for dinner with daughter Robin and family.
Robin’s step grandson was there…how delightful to have a small child running from room to room. After two hours he was looking a bit wan and his smiles were not as wide but we all sat down to a monstrous dinner and I as the oldest participant…said Grace. (I hope one of my girls will take over this role when I am gone…I’ve tried to spoon religion into them, even giving Robin the Presbyterian Calendar every year.)
Anyway, we had just filled our plates when the little boy upchucked everything he had eaten that day. I have a problem with vomit…it triggers a similar reaction in me and I really had to concentrate, not to join him. But everyone else took it so blithely, cleaned up the mess quickly and the meal appeal didn’t drop a bit (at least for the rest of the gang) and before I knew it dessert was served and a half hour later we headed home.
Lyn and Roman left in their truck a day later and Andrea flew off in the plane. It took me two days to get the tree down and the house back to normal.
But I have the most wonderful memories of a different Christmas than I’d planned and those memories will sustain me through to next December, when the blessings and blunders of Christmas will again be part of that special week of the year.
