I’m
not sure why, but this year I have been very nostalgic about Christmas when I
was little. Like all kids, I loved opening up my presents, but I also loved
watching my family open their gifts, too. Almost every year, I got my Grandpa
Harry a corn cob pipe. Every year, he acted as if it was the first one he ever
had. He worked at O’Neil’s department store in downtown Akron, and of course he
told me the real Santa Claus was at his store, and the one at the store across
the street was one of Santa’s helpers dressed to look like him. Naturally, I completely
believed him—no doubts at all.
This was Grandpa’s chair, one that I spent a
lot of time sitting in his lap, singing songs with him or just chatting his ear
off! I’m so happy that I still have it. It is about 80 years old.
Mom
being a single parent back in the 1950s, she didn’t have a lot of money. But
somehow she always managed to make sure we had a wonderful Christmas. I never
got the hottest toy of the season, but I did get the next best. Not a Barbie
doll, but a doll with a different name, and I wish I could remember her name.
Didn’t get a Chatty Cathy, but did get a Patty Play Pal. Now she couldn’t talk,
but she had my name, so I thought that was much better. I never minded that I
didn’t get the latest and greatest. I truly feel it shaped me into the person I
am today. I have never cared that I don’t wear expensive clothes, have the
top-of-the-line sofa, or drive the most popular car on the market.
Don’t
misunderstand. I’m not suggesting that having a Barbie doll is a bad thing, or
as an adult, having the latest I-phone is wrong. In fact, I have a current
I-phone and love it. But when I look back at those Christmases in the 50s and
60s, I fondly remember appreciating the gifts I received, and loving every
single one of them. They are just “things” after all, right? So what difference
can it make if the package says Barbie or Tammy or Sally? At least for me, it
made zero difference, and I’m so glad for that.
I
have been toying with the idea of writing about my life growing up in Akron,
Ohio, with a single parent back in the day when that wasn’t something to talk about. This wouldn’t be for
publication. I think I’ve written enough about me and my family for the world
to read. But I would like to let future generations of my family know what life
was like in those early days when single parenting was kept quiet, when there
was no political correctness, when it was okay to play outside in the dark, doors
weren’t always locked, and neighbors knew their neighbors. When I think about
it, it almost could fall under the sci-fi genre, don’t you think?
No
matter how you celebrate Christmas or the holidays in general, I hope it’s a merry
one for you and your family. Maybe in the New Year, it might be a good idea to write
about your past Christmases. You just might discover something about yourself you
never knew was there. After all, the holidays always include some surprises.
Keep
reading, keep writing, and remember to enjoy your day. Thanks for stopping by. Merry
Christmas!
