As I See it Christmas Past December 2006

by Jacqueline Irwin

When you’re young you think life will always remain unchanged. Christmas in our home involved the same traditions year after year. I grew up in Southern California and our Christmas Holidays would begin with our family of five cramming into the cab of my dad’s Chevy work truck and driving to downtown Los Angeles where, beside the Southern Pacific railroad tracks, we would search for a tree freshly delivered from the forests of Oregon. I remember my brothers and I all vying to find the tree that would be chosen so that we could say, “That was the tree I picked out.”

Unfortunately, my parents, who spared no expense on other household items, always searched out the cheapest tree at the last possible opportunity before the tree dealers packed up and headed back to Oregon to spend time with their own families.

When we got home my dad would unload the tree, shake out the dried pine needles (which amounted to about 50% of the tree, as I recall), and sawed off the bottom so that it could be mounted and watered, keeping it fresh for the week leading up to Christmas Day.

My brothers and I would enthusiastically decorate the tree with the charming ornaments we had made at school and others that my mom had accumulated over the years. By the time we were done the poor tree always looked like the tree from A Charlie Brown Christmas. But we didn’t care…. The best was yet to come.

Every year my big brother would set up our treasured antique Lionel train so the tracks encircled the tree. It took him hours to get the rusted connections and temperamental wiring working again. His persistence and patience always paid off because every year he would manage to get that thing running. My brothers and I would position ourselves around the tree, my big brother always at the controls. We would watch that thing go around and around. It was fascinating. We piled up the gifts to make tunnels and wrote messages on scraps of wrapping paper that we would send by railroad delivery to one another.

Falling asleep Christmas Eve was always nearly impossible, but somehow we did it. That doesn’t mean we remained asleep. We always renewed our pact stating the first to wake-up would wake the other two no matter what the hour. We spent the rest of the wee early morning hours waiting for the sun to come up counting and sorting the gifts. As soon as the sun peaked over the horizon we drug our parents out of the cozy comfort of their bed at which time the festivities began.

Christmas was great! We always got nearly everything we wanted.

A short time later my Grandma Shull would arrive and off we went on our biannual trip to church. The other being Easter. I loved going to church listening to the music, saying my prayers, snuggling up to my Grandma, and smelling her flowery, powdery odor.

After church we always enjoyed a grand breakfast prepared by my dad. My poor mother spent hours cleaning up after him while dad assembled our toys, and the rest of us played. In the early afternoon Grandma Barron would show up at the front door along with Aunt Kay and Aunt Pauline. Their arrival would be followed by another whirlwind of gift opening, dinner, and revelry. We would finally head for bed and settle down to sleep. Glorious sleep!

I thought Christmas like that would last forever.

That was many years ago, but I can’t help wonder what happened. It seems as though I blinked and my grandmas and aunts were suddenly gone. And most unbelievable of all, my big brother who set up the train vanished along with the others.

Now that the roles have changed I’m the mommy who writes the cards, buys and wraps the gifts, makes the recipes, buys and cooks the food, and tears down the tree. The only thing I don’t fix is breakfast. My husband has carried on the tradition of making a delicious breakfast, on one hand, and destroying the kitchen on the other.

I’m not complaining. I love the whole experience…. I just loved it more when I was young and oblivious to all the effort that goes into making the experience.

I hope my own children have incredible memories of Christmas.

Now I just wonder if it will be only another blink until the roles will change again and I become the grandma driving across town to see my own grandchildren on Christmas morning.

I’m determined to revel in each and every moment left to me in this world. I’m going to spend with my family and friends as many precious moments as possible — especially during Christmas — in this truly beautiful life.  °

Jacqueline Irwin
Associate Editor
jacki@110mag.com