My Favorite Christmas Memory... Circa 1981

Today at work some of my coworkers and I were talking about our favorite Christmas memories and it made me want to share mine with you.


My first Christmas at 4 months old. I still have that stocking... somewhere.



I love Christmas. I love the Christmas season and everything about it. I have always wanted to be a part of a huge family with lots of kids that get up on Christmas morning and race to the tree to see if Santa filled their stockings.



This was my favorite Christmas gift of all time - a tractor just like the one my grandfather drove. It was my "chair" for the rest of our Christmas visit. Well, mine and my new stuffed pet kitty's.



Since we don't have children that's not something I get to be a part of. But I love throwing Christmas parties and eggnog and putting up the tree and Christmas music.



God bless her, my grandmother gave me a doll for every freaking year. And I fake smiled and said "thank you" every freaking year. And then hated them - I was never much of a doll fan. Shrug.

I love mistletoe and picking out just the right gift and Christmas specials on TV. There's a lot to love about Christmas and I have a lot of wonderful Christmas memories, but there's one special memory that I want to share with everyone.

It was my ninth Christmas and my whole family had gathered at my grandparents' house in Kentucky as we did every year. It was bedtime (around 8:30 or so) on Christmas Eve and the meteorologist on the local news station claimed that Santa was getting pretty close. I'd been getting a little suspicious about the whole Santa thing over the last year, and was resisting going to bed. Extended family members had been visiting all day and all evening, the kitchen and living room were full of Christmas candy and cookies, and everybody was still having so much fun - it wasn't fair that I had to go to bed for "Santa" to come.

So I was in bed, but I wasn't asleep - and I was pretty vocal about my displeasure and being told to go to bed. Suddenly, Mom comes in and asks me if I hear bells... from outside. I listened and I heard them - are those... jingle bells? When I looked out the bedroom window and up toward the roof, I saw a red glow off the edge of the roof! OMG - Rudolph was peaking in my window to see if I was asleep! HOLY COW!!! RED ALERT! RED ALERT!!! SANTA IS HERE!

(This part will probably shock you - but I was a pretty loud and bossy kid, so their plan kind of backfired on them.) To Mom and Aunt Anita's surprise I hopped right out of bed and ran into the living room screaming "Santa's here! Everybody in bed! Santa's here! You have to go to bed! Rudolph just looked in my window! He can't leave me presents if you're still up! GO TO BED!" They tried to convice me that it was okay for adults to be up - but I wasn't buying it for one hot second. Everybody knows Santa only comes in if everyone's in bed. Duh. So I forced my entire family - grandparents, parents, aunt - to get into the pajamas and go to bed. At 8:30 on Christmas Eve. If I recall correctly we still had company visiting and I effectively kicked them out as well. Everybody made a big show of rushing into their pajamas and climbing into bed.

In all my excitement, what I didn't notice is that Dad was missing... poor guy was up on the roof with bells and a red light!

I don't know how long I lay in bed after that with my eyes squeezed shut as tightly as possible, adrenaline pumping through my little veins, desperately trying to fall asleep as fast as possible. But I finally did. I woke up Christmas morning to a stocking full of presents from Santa, half the cookies and milk I'd left out was gone and he'd left me a note. (I always left Santa a note and he always wrote one back.)

I don't remember what I received that year, but I do remember how special that memory makes me feel. My grandparents aren't with us anymore, but I remember how much they enjoyed that Christmas as well. We don't all gather in Kentucky for Christmas anymore and those traditions are gone, replaced with new and different traditions. But one thing that hasn't changed is that I have an amazing family that loves me very much.


Me, Mom, Dad and Anita on Christmas morning - the morning after Santa and Rudolph's special visit! (Shut up - pink footie pajamas were totally in style that year. If you wanna laugh at something check out Dad's sideburns!)



Especially my dad, who climbed up on the roof and froze his jingle bells off just to convince me that Santa was real for just one more year...

Merry Christmas everyone!