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Edited on Sat Dec-09-06 04:35 PM by lildreamer316
How I wish I could share my wonderful Christmas memories with you. I lived in a beautiful old house, and remember snow; and church christmas carols (our United Methodist Church that I was a member of is known for it's music;I was in several choirs); and 50's christmas music ('cause my parents grew up in the 40s and 50s); My father's insurance company had this amazing country club which we lived within walking distance to. Every christmas they would have movies and dinner and music and on the glassed portico overlooking the lake and swimming pools, the would have tables PILED high with gifts-one table for each age group. There was always a HUGE fire, and a tall christmas tree.
There was a menswear store in town that Dad would take me too-they had a fake fireplace, but mulled cider and couches, and Dad would park my little butt there while he tried on wool jackets and such. The whole store was decorated in Tudor style, including the wood beams.
The country club had a manger display that you drove by to see; you wound your way through the grounds on the access roads; and the had different little surprises around every bend; with the manger display being the crowning glory in the courtyard. Sometimes they even had live animals and people. It was a three-story building with two wings, and every widow had a candle. In the weeks before Christmas, my dad would take me over visiting (I swear he was showing me off for some reason); and we would go to the President's offices that overlooked the courtyard. They were paneled in oak, and there was a fireplace and a table that was absolutely FULL of food. It stayed that way all day every day for a week before Christmas, so whoever came in could eat and visit. Dad's friends would smile and pat me on the head, and give me a sweet treat. I loved it.
In my front yard we had two Frasier firs framing the house that were-I dunno-50, 80 feet tall? In the snow they were perfect christmas trees.
The church always had the most beautiful candlelight service,and I would treasure lighting my little white candle and hearing the hush before the choir would sing acapella. We would file outside in the night cold and sing in a circle.
Now THAT was spiritual.
(Too bad all the other crap ended up ruining church for me).
We had a real fireplace and a real tree,which for half my lifetime we cut from our own property. It was a ritual to go and get it with Dad, and drag it home.
Mother always cooked a certain recipe of gingerbread cookies for us,and we always used the same rolling pin and it took all day. I of course ate half the dough-it was sooo good.
I painted my own nativity scene, and at church advent prep, dipped my own candles. I still remember the smell.
All of this I can do without now, except I mourn the loss of the house every day. It was like losing a family member. I am searching still for "home"; a house in which to raise my son that is an anchor and a haven for him and us. I want a place that has a past, a history, has been loved and lived in, infused with spirit. That's what I remember most about this time of year.
The solstice, or Christmas, has always resonated strongly with me as a sacred time of year. It just grabs my heart like nothing else, and even though I don't count myself as a Christian any longer, I will always celebrate the season. I got to see what it could really be, with just enough commercialism to deal with, and I loved it. I want my son and husband to understand that those things I remember, THAT is what the season is all about. It doesn't have to be ruined by commercialism and talking heads.
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