" Christmases Past "

I started thinking about Christmas a few days before the Fourth of July. It wasn't because of the old phrase " Christmas in July ".

July 5th marked the seventh month anniversary of my mom's passing.

Passing. I still can't bring myself to use the word death. 

I know in my mind that she died. But the word still turns my stomach even as I type this.

Please don't think that I am asking for sympathy. Far from it. I know for a fact that my mom is in a much better place than I. My mom as my grandmom were not afraid to die.

Their faith was overwhelming to me as I do feel afraid to die. They both seemed comfortable with the fact that they would be happy when they were called home. And I did feel as though they knew I would be the one to bear the pain while they went off to a magical, safe, loving home.

I can only hope to gain their strength and faith before I am called to come home.

I came from a very poor family as did my husband. I do believe it is part of the reason that we are such a good team.

We still aren't rich. Which is fine because truthfully, I don't know what we would do if we were to become rich. We all imagine what we would do, where we would go. But in all honesty, I think that for us, it would change things much too drastically.

As a young girl, I like many young girls looked forward to Christmas. But it wasn't because of the gifts that I might receive. It was because of the wonderful stockings that my mom would fill every Christmas eve.

In those days our stockings, being hung with care of coarse, were filled with nuts, fruits and a few very special trinkets. As was our tradition being from a poor family, we were lucky to receive a gift as well.

When I was about nine years old, I remember my father scolding me for something which has been long since forgotten. He warned me that I may only get a chunk of coal in my stocking!

My how that statement turned me around. Whatever I did to deserve this scolding, I must have stopped as I did receive my usual yet excitingly stuffed stocking! If only those few words would work on my fifteen year old today.  

There was one year in particular that I remember. It is burned into my memory. As stated earlier, we were very poor. So poor that many nights the dinner menu consisted of popcorn. Popcorn is good, unless that's your only meal that you are able to serve your child.

Those of you that have been around here awhile may remember that my father was an alcoholic. At that time my mom didn't even have a drivers license. So she was totally dependent upon my father. Who by the way used to also beat her, often.

This particular Christmas is so embedded in my memory. I remember occasionally seeing my mom sewing by hand. I didn't think twice about it. I had a crush on a neighbor boy. It was an escape from the turmoil that was my daily routine.

One evening that Christmas year, mom and I took a walk with our wagon. All I remember about this was turning a corner and seeing a Christmas tree lot. Mom gave the man a five dollar bill. we came home with a three foot Christmas tree.

My gift that year. Well it turns out that mom spent hours and hours hand sewing Barbie clothes for my Barbie doll. She made several outfits and this beautiful woolen coat for my Barbie, all by hand.

A Christmas gift that I will never, ever forget. Mom was always a great gift picker outer! I on the other hand did not get that talent from her. I apologize to my family!

I am going to skip ahead in time. After I married my second, current husband. Remember I said that we both came from poor families. Christmas was always a struggle for us. Oh heck, buying food has always been a struggle for us but we work very well together and manage to do the very best that we can.

I have a wonderful talent of being able to cook something good out of nothing. Quite ironic considering the fact that I despise cooking. And while my wonderful husband took on me ( a challenge ) and two children, he has always managed to keep food on the table. And not just popcorn!

We have had many a poor Christmas. One in particular, still breaks my heart to think of. This particular year, our two teenage children received only a tee-shirt each. And while we saw the disappointment on their faces, they at least acted grateful.

After that there were years when there were no gifts, not by choice mind you. Just the luck of the draw. We drew short.

We had better years. Our two children were growing up and out. They both went on to become very successful. And while we still have a fifteen year old at home, I suspect she'll do alright too.

One of the WORST Christmases we've had involved money. My husband injured himself on a job sight. We received a nice settlement. So we in turn splurged on our family that year.

The lesson we learned from that year was huge. As a matter of fact, to this day my husband and I always agree that it was the most awful Christmas that we had. Big presents were bought. Wrappings were thrown away and the day was forgotten. Nothing special. 

There was no Christmas spirit. That was when we discovered that there really is a Christmas spirit. Oh we both believe and have faith in God and all. We both knew the meaning of Christmas.

But this was the first time we FELT it. 

It is the little things that make us happy. The things that don't cost. You can spend and spend and spend. But there is no guarantee that you will feel good because of it. 

It is the everyday love that you show. The cleaning, the laundry, the hug, the damn cooking, the mending, the stroking, the kind words said over and over, the encouragement, the clean sheets, the band-aides, the kool-aides, the coffees, the kisses, the closeness, the speeches, the lectures, the kindness, the love and the fact that you are there. No matter what. That's the greatest Christmas gift of all.

So Save your money. Use it to take the one you love to the theater. Out to dinner. Go to a second hand shop. Maybe fishing together.

When Christmas rolls around again this year, which it will, if you are lucky enough to still be here.....

Don't worry about the gift, worry about the last impression that you will leave. Will it be a hug and an "I love you" or a new toy?

I love you mom.

Merry Christmas in July. And thank you for the awesome Barbie clothes. ♥ 


Note: This photo was taken of my mom, Anna Mae Evanoff, seven months before her death. The sweater she was wearing is one that I crocheted for one of her birthdays.  

I must apologize. I had thought that was the sweater that I made for my mom as it is the exact same color and the collar is the same.
Upon closer examination, I realized that it wasn't.