Christmas Traditions
Well, it's Christmas Eve, and I've finished wrapping my presents, did a load of laundry, and made a quick stop at the grocery store for the final touches on tonight's dinner and breakfast tomorrow morning. This is the first year I won't be spending the night at Mom and Dad's for Christmas Eve. I'm going to my own church with Matt for worship. Funny how quickly your life changes. It got me to thinking about all the things I used to love about Christmas when I was a kid, and how I'm looking forward to reviving at least 2 of them this year.
Every year, my family would go to the Christmas Eve worship service at our church in Parma, and then head out to Chagrin Falls to see the square decorated. We always passed a house on the corner with a big Santa sleigh on their porch. That's how I knew we were getting close. If it was warm enough, we'd get out and walk around, gazing into shop windows, admiring the lights adorning the square and the path overlooking the falls. Then, we'd hop back into the car, and drive to a neighborhood in Chagrin where they had a tradition of lining their streets, driveways, and sidewalks with luminaries (brown paper bags with sand in the bottom, and a lit candle illuminating the bag - sounds very simple, but so pretty). Dad would turn off the headlights, and we'd drive along the quiet street enjoying the peace and beauty of the scene before us. Afterward, we'd try to find a McDonald's that still had egg nog shakes, and enjoy them as we drove home. "You kids had better get to bed, I saw Santa's sleigh as we were driving home. He's headed here, and you're still awake!" Mom would say to my brother and I. We'd scurry to bed, fantasizing about the wonders that lay before the tree.
Robert (my brother) and I would always wake up sometime around 5:30, if not earlier. We'd sneak out to the living room and conduct reconnaisance missions under the tree, trying to figure out what each box held. Mom would get up not too long after that, and start to get coffee ready for Dad. The rule was, we were not allowed to wake Dad any time before 7am. Mom was always as eager for Christmas morning as my brother and I, so this rule was put into play by my father. Come 6:55, Robert and I would beg my mother to go wake him; we simply couldn't take the suspense any longer. She'd go to the kitchen, get him his coffee, and go into their room to rouse him. We could always hear her whispering to him "Ron, honey, Merry Christmas! (Dad grunts - huh, wha?) The kids are up, they want to open presents." Unlike most families on Christmas morning, the opening of presents in my household has always been tremendously civilized. One person opens a gift at a time, and everyone takes turns. Dad always drug out the camcorder. After all, there's no better time of day to be comemorated on film than 7am, in your pajamas, before your hair has even seen a brush.
After all the presents had been opened, and we'd laid waste to the living room with the carcasses of wrapping paper and packaging, Mom would bring out breakfast; cinnamon rolls with icing and cranberry juice. And the day would begin to decrescendo.
So you wonder what traditions I'm reviving this year? Well, after church tonight, Matt will indulge me in a pilgrimage to Chagrin Falls. Maybe we'll be lucky enough to find a McDonald's with egg nog shakes. And I bought cinnamon rolls and cranberry juice at the grocery store.
I wish you all the merriest of Christmases.
Every year, my family would go to the Christmas Eve worship service at our church in Parma, and then head out to Chagrin Falls to see the square decorated. We always passed a house on the corner with a big Santa sleigh on their porch. That's how I knew we were getting close. If it was warm enough, we'd get out and walk around, gazing into shop windows, admiring the lights adorning the square and the path overlooking the falls. Then, we'd hop back into the car, and drive to a neighborhood in Chagrin where they had a tradition of lining their streets, driveways, and sidewalks with luminaries (brown paper bags with sand in the bottom, and a lit candle illuminating the bag - sounds very simple, but so pretty). Dad would turn off the headlights, and we'd drive along the quiet street enjoying the peace and beauty of the scene before us. Afterward, we'd try to find a McDonald's that still had egg nog shakes, and enjoy them as we drove home. "You kids had better get to bed, I saw Santa's sleigh as we were driving home. He's headed here, and you're still awake!" Mom would say to my brother and I. We'd scurry to bed, fantasizing about the wonders that lay before the tree.
Robert (my brother) and I would always wake up sometime around 5:30, if not earlier. We'd sneak out to the living room and conduct reconnaisance missions under the tree, trying to figure out what each box held. Mom would get up not too long after that, and start to get coffee ready for Dad. The rule was, we were not allowed to wake Dad any time before 7am. Mom was always as eager for Christmas morning as my brother and I, so this rule was put into play by my father. Come 6:55, Robert and I would beg my mother to go wake him; we simply couldn't take the suspense any longer. She'd go to the kitchen, get him his coffee, and go into their room to rouse him. We could always hear her whispering to him "Ron, honey, Merry Christmas! (Dad grunts - huh, wha?) The kids are up, they want to open presents." Unlike most families on Christmas morning, the opening of presents in my household has always been tremendously civilized. One person opens a gift at a time, and everyone takes turns. Dad always drug out the camcorder. After all, there's no better time of day to be comemorated on film than 7am, in your pajamas, before your hair has even seen a brush.
After all the presents had been opened, and we'd laid waste to the living room with the carcasses of wrapping paper and packaging, Mom would bring out breakfast; cinnamon rolls with icing and cranberry juice. And the day would begin to decrescendo.
So you wonder what traditions I'm reviving this year? Well, after church tonight, Matt will indulge me in a pilgrimage to Chagrin Falls. Maybe we'll be lucky enough to find a McDonald's with egg nog shakes. And I bought cinnamon rolls and cranberry juice at the grocery store.
I wish you all the merriest of Christmases.
posted by Becki | 6:26 PM
1 Comments:
Yikes, 5:30! Even in my younger and anticipatory days I don't think I ever got up *that* early for Christmas. Of course, at our house, presents were wrapped and placed under the tree throughout December, which helped quash some of the impatience; there would still be a great many more packages on Christmas morning, though. Usually my brother and I would be up first and we'd check our stockings (since, being unwrapped, they were fair game). Eventually, dad would be up with the video camera and my brother and I would stage the event of coming down the stairs to the living room to open our first presents. Most of them had to wait until after breakfast, though. Strangely, I always managed to open the present I wanted most (e.g. Game Boy) first. Not sure how that happened. ::shifty eyes::
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