Tuesday, January 6, 2015

A Belated Recollection of Christmas Memories



My recollection of the holidays are packed with good memories, times spent with family and friends complete with all the antics and crazy behavior that typically come along with the season.  But one of the fondest memories I have of Christmas is time spent with Grandmas.  I was blessed and fortunate to have both sets of Grandparents close growing up.  One set lived a block away and the other about six blocks away.  And as most kids would do, I often took that proximity for granted but now I realize just how much of a blessing it was.  

Christmas time was extra special.  


First, there was a candlelight service on Christmas Eve at the church.  My big family would pack into cars and trucks (a bus couldn’t hold us all) and head to First Baptist Church.  Grandmas, Grandpas, Aunts, Uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews – they all were there.  We took our requisite spots in the back left portion of the sanctuary, I could literally tell you the assigned seats to this day!  I know it sounds crazy but one of the coolest things in the world when you are a young boy is holding a real candle with real fire in a church!  If you didn’t fiddle too much you might have even got to light the candle of the one sitting next to you in the pew.  But definitely not the candle of your cousin, because surely that would end with a call to 911!  Yes, holding a lit candle in church on Christmas Eve while singing Silent Night was special.

Then we would head home and my brothers and me would start to inventory all of the presents under the tree.  There was usually a good amount under the tree, but until Santa came the REALLY exciting ones didn’t appear.  Soft presents (surely clothes) were not exciting, anything BIG was highly anticipated, and even more so if it rattled or slid within the box.  Thinking about what might be inside was excruciating!  Ah, I couldn’t wait until morning!

We were entitled to open one gift on Christmas Eve!  But (and it was a big but for a ten year old) Mom and Dad got to pick which present we each got to open on Christmas Eve.  It didn’t take too long to figure out that the present selected was ALWAYS new pajamas.  Sports pajamas, comic hero pajamas, or some special new pajamas to ensure pictures on Christmas morning were perfect … except for our hair.  
After getting out cookies and milk, and sometimes carrots for the reindeer we would collectively be shuttled off to bed.  Christmas comes early for young boys.  

Whoever woke up earliest on Christmas morning shook the other brothers out of their sleep and then bounced into Mom & Dad’s bedroom to wake them up.  Mom and Dad would then call Grandma and Grandpa Strempke and tell them to come over, then instruct us to return to our rooms while they went downstairs to see if Santa had actually arrived and left gifts.  Fortunately, he didn’t miss our house even one year!

Mom would then start preparing some sort of breakfast while we eagerly looked out our windows to see Grandma and Grandpa’s car pull in our driveway.  At last, we would be able to go downstairs!  When Grandma and Grandpa got in their place on the couch, Mom and Dad had the camera ready to go and their first cup of coffee, we would be invited to come downstairs.  When the three of us scurried down the stairs it was as if Santa and his reindeer were still on the roof.  Booms, thrashes, squeaks and screeches erupted as we tore down the stairs and around the corner where the tree set to see what Santa had brought us.  Wow!

Whether it was a Red Rider BB-gun, a Stretch Armstrong, or Evil Kneivel on his motorcycle complete with a ramp (these were three of the most memorable gifts I can recall) we always got way more than we deserved.  It as awesome!

Following an hour or two of unwrapping gifts we would start pestering Dad to help us assemble, put batteries in, or just show us how to work these amazing gifts we had just received.  And yes, we even had to try on our new clothes to be certain they fit – it was an unfortunate but necessary part of the morning as well.  Then a quick change out of the new pajamas and into your new Iowa sweatshirt and jeans (complete with tearing off tags with reckless abandon) and we were off to City Hall (either in Oelwein or Hazelton) to meet our Grandma Birchard and her side of the family.  Aunts, Uncles, cousins, came from miles around and filled a tile or wood floored hall with voices of laughter, singing, prayer, food and fun.  It was a family Christmas time like no other.
At the hall we would have a guy and girl gift exchange which always provided because of the assortment of gifts given.   Socks, hats, t-shirts, pocket knives and coffee cups were typical in the men’s exchange while the girls exchange was littered with cheap jewelry, doilies, pot holders and perfume.  In addition to the gift exchange gift we also got a special gift from Grandma Birchard.  It was almost always the same gift for all of us cousins.  So if I got a t-shirt so did all of my cousins.  If they got a wind up robot, so did I.  So on and so forth.  Then we would stuff ourselves with a buffet style Christmas dinner, line up and take pictures – immediate family first, then all the boys, then all the grandkids, then all the uncles, then all the aunts, then everyone … and each picture was taken with everyone’s camera so we had the same photo fifteen times – actually now that I think about it that was almost as good as the digital pictures of today!
Then me and my cousins would head outdoors to burn off a portion of the excitement and sugar we   
had consumed in large doses over the day.

Tell me, isn’t this a storybook Christmas if you’ve ever heard one?  Yeah, and I had this same experience with slight variety every year of my childhood growing up.  Simply put, it was AWESOME!  So thankful for these Christmas memories!

Marc and Brad, what can you add?  Marc, can you edit this post and add a picture or two depicting any of what I've described?

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