“…singing Joy To The World, and here comes Santa Claus…” Johnny Cash, That Christmassy Feeling from The Classic Christmas Album
1977-ish, I’m 11 years old, and the Christmas Eve anticipation is building. School is out, that means all three of us are on break – my brother, my mom (a teacher), and me. Christmas Eve is Christmas in my world, so much so that even today when I count down Christmas, the day changes about sunset the day before. Shortly after dinner the three of us will pack the gifts we are giving, drive to pick up my great grandmother and great aunt, then to my grandparents’ house (my mom’s parents). Aunts, uncles, and cousins will be there, how many this year? Depends on the year and how many cousins so far.
Food is spread out and we start with eating and drinking. My drink is a punch with lime sherbet and a local lemon/lime soda called 50/50. The egg nog is off limits, it will be a few years yet before I understand that there is more than just egg and nog in that punch bowl.
After a while, Christmas present time! The Sears catalog and my grandparents’ generosity combine for a robust exchange indeed. Lest anyone think that the gifts actually came from the catalog, it is clear that they came from Santa Claus: he came by my grandparents house earlier this afternoon to help with getting ready. Santa and my grandfather had a drink and a smoke together. If my grandfather says that’s the way it happened, then it must be true. Then again, one year he said that Santa was hiding in a tall box next to the tree; as it turns out it was a wine rack instead. Despite that trickery, I’m still convinced that every December 24, about 3pm, until my Grandfather’s passing in 1987, Santa Claus’s rounds included a quick stop just long enough to enjoy that Adult Egg Nog. No worries, I’m thinking about Stretch Armstrong, The Six Million Dollar Man, a radio controlled van, some spending money…
One year I saw that it was after 11pm when it was time to go home, the first time I remember being allowed to stay up late. Taking Great Grandma and Great Aunt Carol home, we drove through the old-style downtown, dark, snow covered, quiet, and Christmas music on WLS AM-89 from Chicago.
Christmas morning, the three of us are together with presents under the tree, then we move on to my dad’s side of the family Christmas gathering. The way I remember it, I’m not sure what I made of this thing of divorced parents but still in touch with the “other” side of the family. Now it occurs to me that having all this extended family only minutes away from each other with few exceptions was quite amazing. Christmas morning’s gathering time and place varied, starting at my “other” Grandmother’s house (widowed 1955), eventually transitioning to my dad’s oldest brother’s house, with more aunts, uncles, and cousins. My Aunt Sandy made Christmas quiche one year. Too bad she did that when the book Real Men Don’t Eat Quiche was popular, and I made sure she knew that I was a real man and not about to eat Quiche. Then again, it was quite tasty as I recall.
Other than my Grandfather’s passing, a paradigm shift happened in 1990 when I transitioned to a bona fide follower of Jesus from closet atheist. Over the past 35 years I have realized more and more how navigating “The Reason For The Season” and “Cultural Christmas” is complex and filled with nuances that go beyond the scope of this article. Darling Bride has helped with insight, and will be discussed in a future essay.
1993, the anticipation builds once more. This year I will bring my future fiancee. 1994, we are newlyweds, Christmas Eve with her side of the family.
1998, 1999, 2001 adds children, 1987, 1999, 2012 subtracts grandparents. Eventually, the generations shift: my parents are the grandparents, Darling Bride and I are the parents, and our kids are growing up. Cousins, aunts, uncles have families of their own and the connection with them is limited to yearly cards.
With a family of my own, the pattern (from my kids’ perspective) has been similar. Christmas Eve with their maternal grandparents (whom I love dearly). Christmas Day with their paternal grandmother (thankfully still healthy and ambulatory, albeit with new hips this year), my brother and sister-in-law (our annual face time), and a family friend Joey who is as much family to us as anyone.
2025 is working out the details, we are all older now, do we scale back the gift exchange? Maybe simplify the food? The important thing is that we get together for a day.
Over time, I’ve come to understand more fully how my extended family – fellow protagonists in our family’s story – are like most protagonists, flawed yet doing their best. I myself am flawed yet doing my best. By the way, so is just about everyone we know who is worth knowing. Understanding that nobody’s perfect, I see the proverbial glass as “half full” (actually, much more than half).
For me that means 2025 is another Thanksgiving / Christmas / New Year Season of anticipation, memory making, doing our best, and thankful for a Season celebrating it all, aware of the imperfections yet looking for the good and focusing on that.