In planning this year's holiday, Bri and I agreed that no one remembers too much about pricey gifts from years gone by. We do, however, readily recall feelings experienced during special moments in time. Here on Stacey, the air in our home became palpable with excitement, back in the day.
The year my Dad died, the boys were very little. Mom, Joe and I had to lift ourselves from the doldrums very quickly, to create some merry for them. Always one to handcraft for the holidays, I began the therapeutic construction of decorations for our front portico.
In 1976, there were no hot-glue guns. So, little by little, I rotated Styrofoam armatures, gluing nuts in random designs, all the long while thinking, laughing, crying, feeling. The end results have become symbolic for me and have been on display every year since. To this day, when I hang them, I think of my Jewish Dad decorating our Massapequa home. I can picture the life-sized Santa with the color-wheel of light upon it. Soon after completion, he'd arrive home with a beautiful Scotch Pine... our tree. Always, I felt so loved, as though the world just revolved around his and Mom's mutual desire to make me and Ronnie as happy as possible. It was the feeling Joe and I wanted to impart to our beautiful Children.
Every early childhood year, the boys created something for each of their loved ones and for each other. Handwritten notes and drawings always accompanied their work. I'd also bring them to Mom's, armed with supplies and instructions, so that they could do a project for us. Precious love went into that artwork; I can still feel their proud pleasure, upon presentation to us.
One year, Joe bought an enormous fresh wreath for the house. I kept its frame, and the following fall began working a new piece, using red branches of a shrub the boys had given me, the previous Mother's Day. I've continued to add branches for what now amounts to decades. Cousin Evelyn tells me that she'd be unable to recognize our home, if ever I took it down. Apparently, it's what she focuses on, upon arrival. Gotta love Ev.
Niece Kim detests the commercial aspects of Christmas and has always focused on handmade gifts with her son, Keith. She'd come up with laborious projects for him to accomplish and gift to his family members. Laughing aloud here!! The kicker remains his handwritten, hand-illustrated, hand-delivered and complete copy of 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, circa 2004, when he was nine. Talk about love and feeling... thanks,
Keith and Kim, for the gift that keeps on giving. Love you guys so much.
In 1992, when the boys were older, I created a Mystery Box, filling it with letters to Santa, the loving notes they used to leave all over the place for us and each other, and special mementoes. It was out for most of the pre-holiday, not to be opened till Christmas Eve, its embroidered message saying:
Dear Joe, Brian and Christian,
These treasures saved with love and care...
Tonight I'd like with you to share...
All my love N '92
We had a special young, non-Christian guest that night. She just delighted in each discovery and became our Narrator, for the evening. Honestly, I'm getting goosebumps, as I write. I've added to its contents, over the past few, but haven't displayed it in a while. Surprised was I once again, upon finding baker's dough handprints, circa 1977, when Brian was 7 and Christian only 4. I'm thinking that this year, our Baby Grands might enjoy old sketchbooks and notes of their Dads, as well as wedding letters and other goodies.
Grazie Dio. I'm so in love with my family.
It matters not to me if one believes that Christ was born on December 25th, or that the Messiah has yet to come, or that power lies in the Sun and Moon, or that someone or something else is G-d. Truly, I just wish everyone the feeling of a season concentrated on showing love for others. In the creation of merriment, may we unite in capturing the best gift of all. ♥
