No dashing through the snow on a one cylinder Vespa this year so I pulled an image from last winter of one of the more picturesque winter scenes. Quiet snowfalls are just one of the many images and ideas in my head surrounding the holiday season. Remembering Christmas is part bittersweet exercise and part challenge to the soul to engage the world with a bright heart and wide smile.
Oh, and by the way, Merry Christmas to all!
The magic felt as a kid remains elusive. Perhaps it doesn’t exist as my adult mind has become too twisted with mature thought, rational behavior, and a mechanistic approach to living that stifles possibilities for magical thinking.
During the run up to Christmas I’ve witnessed much energy and resources invested in the season — decorations, parties and food. Enjoyable and fun, but not successful in stirring the excitement of my child fantasy of Christmas.
I remember when it happened. Nine years old, late in the evening after the traditional Christmas eve party followed by a candlelight church service at midnight complete with carols and shimmering desire for Christmas morning. In a sudden, tearful recognition at bed time I knew it was gone. No thrill in my stomach or imaginings of Santa Claus. I was just gone. My father came to say goodnight and listened to my sadness and told me the feeling would return again when I had kids.
He had that ability to make me feel ok — about Christmas, problems at school, or cutting my thumb in half with my Cub Scout knife. I wish he was here now, to help me remember Christmas.
Colored lights and evergreen trees help make the spirits bright. Just like the song. Snow would be a plus but I’m not at all bothered by the snow free weather. Aside from movies, television and a wealth of Christmas card imagery I’m not certain I have any memories directly connected to the white stuff. Instead I remember people, and parties. There are a couple years of adolescent bar-keeping at our Christmas party at the wet bar we had in our family room where I carefully made mixed drinks for people.
On Christmas eve our kids were here and we talked a bit about our favorite gifts over the years. And the least favorite. Thinking about those questions I realize the brightest memories and feelings have little to do with presents. Like the time my dad had the bad chili.
I was maybe twelve when my dad was sick on Christmas day from eating chili, presumably it was too spicy and hot. When you’re twelve years old and focused on the holiday the health issues of your parents don’t seem too important, especially when it’s an intolerance for spicy food.
Years later I got the real Christmas chili story and it has become indelible in how I see my family and Christmas. Here’s the short story:
Late on Christmas eve dad goes to the neighbor’s house to help him put together some toy for his kid. Alcohol is involved. After finishing the toy he returns home and retrieves a 110 pound weight set in a box from the trunk of the car. Struggling with the box as he makes his way up the stairs to the kitchen door our overly excited dog jumps on him and he ends up at the bottom of the steps with three broken ribs.
My mother, hearing the commotion, descends the stairs when my father, drunk, looks up into her eyes and say, “An angel!”. Her response, “Go to hell!”. He spent the next day in bed. The chili story sprang to life but I never learned who hatched the idea.
At the time I slept through this and only knew dad had eaten some bad chili. Now I have a more striking picture of Christmas with my parents. And until his death I had never seen my father drunk. A case of Rolling Rock would last a year.
These are the stories of Christmas that stand out but again, have not helped me find the magic I once held as a kid. Maybe when a new grandchild appears the magic will return. I want to be a kid again at Christmas…
I had a brief thrill this evening when I was handed six big Hershey bars. I still love a Hershey bar, the memory of them from another century to the way they taste now.
I hope each of you has had a fine holiday. For those of you who still feel the magic, maybe you’ll share how that happens. In the meantime I can report that the Vespa is back together, the heated grips working and hot, the Tucano Urbano mitts in place, and a short test ride accomplished on Christmas day.
Happy holidays!
Tucano Urbanos and heaters….life is good. Happy New Year Steve.
Tom
It must be something to do with middle age. I struggle to find the joy and excitement of Christmas anymore too. More and more major holidays are reminder of the year ending down, and more things left unaccomplished. My college aged daughter still gets excited and forced us to get out the tree last weekend, after she came home from finals and binged on 3 days of bad Christmas movies…… maybe that’s part of the secrete. My wife tells me that the more I get out and ride, the better my outlook on life gets. We’ll do our New Year’s Day ride, then the Vespa goes in for tires and service. Hopefully this winter is not as sloppy and cold as last year.
Merry Christmas Steve!
No more cold hands for you. There’s no telling how far you’ll roam now 🙂
Steve;
This post really spoke to my heart. Most of your posts do. But this one did in particular. I appreciate it and your blog.
Steel
Steve, wonderful stuff, you always hit home with your words, thanks!
I have to add, that in my life, I’ve noticed, since my teenage years, an emptiness that appears around Christmas. I see it through the clamoring advertisements trying to convince us that more stuff will help us discover the true meaning of Christmas. I see it in the eyes of those who have bought-into this frenzy, camping for days outside a box-store to get a deal on a television set, or spending money we don’t have on things we don’t need. I’m guilty of all of that (except camping outside a box-store) as well and that’s why I can see it in those around me.
I have come to know the peace of Christmas, the peace I longed for all those years ago (I’m 63 now) and that peace is in the person of Jesus Christ, the baby that Christmas celebrates, at least it used to be about Him. In the 2,000 years since his birth, we’ve moved so far from simple faith to an intellectual view of life, that we’ve lost sight of our loving Creator and His incredible gift to us, His own son, who not only was born for us (Christmas), but who died for us (Easter) to bring us back to our loving Father.
Tom Hanks said it well in his wonderful movie: The Polar Express when, as the conductor, he told the boy: “The true meaning of Christmas is in your heart.” Our hearts will always have some emptiness as a result of wounds we’ve received, dreams that have been shattered or abandoned and our fallen world, less now, than the perfect place God made. Less, because of our movement away from Him which Jesus came to resolve. The further toward Him I move, the less emptiness I have and I wanted to share that with you and your readers, thanks for the opportunity to do that, and Merry Christmas!
Will
Good post Steve and good story about your Dad…..kind of highlights the point I see you making….I think.
That Christmas, or rather the memories that stay with us of Christmases past, come to be what is significant of the holiday for each of us.
I recall, one Christmas, where all us kids got was a small bag of fireworks. Fireworks?! To us it was still a fun time, especially blowing up stuff with said fireworks, no thought to the significance of what caused these presents for us…..money troubles perhaps…..or perhaps my Chinese parents’ not really embracing the traditions of a holiday foreign to them as kids. I never found out and can only wonder.
Thanks, I hope your Christmas was as good as possible for you and yours.
Merry Christmas Steve.
Greetings from Belgium.
A nice story and some wonderful photos. I especially like the one of the house through the trees though I find the Google Awesome fake snow somewhat distracting.
So God made the world did he? That solves a big question I had put to myself, thanks.
Have a happy and safe time and keep on dreaming.
Great post Steve…..great story.
Brent
Thanks Brent. Hope you have a good holiday.
Hello,
I continue to enjoy your thoughts, photos and stories.
I appreciate the effort you devote to these episodes and wish you a safe and
happy new year from and American living in England.
David Gilliland