Dear Readers,
Here we are again, the shadow of Christmas looming over us like a big tacky giant, wanting to be friendly but accidentally squashing us in the process. That's not to say, "Bah hum bug." I'm not that much of a downer. I am enough of a downer to wish Christmas a speedy hello and goodbye, and get back to life as normal though.
I wasn't always like this, you know. My disdain for the season is a result of many years working behind retail or coffee counters, assisting frantic and grouchy customers as they spent their hard earned dollars on undeserving family and friends. A few years working for the airlines and being yelled at by stressed passengers didn't help either. Culminate that with the loss of significant loved ones, and you've got the perfect recipe for a spoiled holiday season. I am remiss though, if I don't talk about the time in my life when it was a joy and delight, heart warming and much craved.
As a child growing up in Rupert, I was fortunate to live near both sets of my grandparents. Grandpa Jack and Grandma Donna (the Badgers) lived about a mile from us down H Street. Grandpa Cal and Grandma Hazel (the Braeggers) were just a hop skip and a jump past the sugar beet factory in a tiny town called Paul. Our family had a very strict Christmas schedule: Christmas Eve in Paul with the Braegger clan, Christmas morning (directly after opening Santa's gifts) was spent at my Aunt Nan's house for brunch, and then over to Grandma and Grandpa Badger's for Christmas dinner. Every turn was filled with food and family, so much love and joy (not to mention a good dose of fighting with my sisters).
Not to downplay the events of Christmas day, as they hold a very dear and special place in my memory, but my Christmas Eve's spent in Paul were by far my favorite. You've read posts about the Braegger's before; I've written about our reunions at Banbury Hot Springs a few times before. My mom is the baby sister of 5 kids: Jed, Nan, Ruth, Wally, and Kristie. I am 2nd from the bottom in a pile of grandkids (not counting the great-grandkids, that is). On Christmas Eve, we'd come from near and far to Grandpa's cinder block house, located right on the highway, the giant willow trees in front waving their welcome. Through the office door and out of the cold, when you'd open the door into the house you'd be greeted by a wall of inviting heat, my grandpa insisting on keeping his coal fireplace at full roar so the little ones wouldn't get cold. On the yellow kitchen table (which now resides at my mom and dad's house), food would be piled, my aunts and grandma laughing in the kitchen as they prepared the grandest of meals. The men in the living room, with football or whatever on the television (was anyone even watching?), taking turns chatting and napping. And the grandkids, running circles around the house, or doing cartwheels into the Christmas tree, or trying on our mom's old prom dresses and high heels, trying to see through the broken lenses of the discarded cat eye glasses. Most likely you would find us by the old hi-fi, listening to the Chipmunks Christmas Album, singing at the top of our lungs. When dinner was served, the young ones would shove their faces as quickly as possible (why didn't I savor those meals more?), anticipating the gift opening that would take place directly after pie was served. Then my sweet grandpa, would start with the youngest grandchild and one by one we would open our gifts. We never wanted to leave, even with the suspense of Santa coming. Those times were the best times, and even as small children we recognized it.
Look at me, wax nostalgic. Once I get started it's hard to stop, so please forgive me. Last year my parents started a new tradition where my sister's and I pack up our families and we drive to Tamarack to spend the weekend together in a beautiful cabin. We just celebrated our Badger family Christmas last weekend, and it renews some of that same spirit I had as a child. Warm and comfortable, with piles of food and a lot of laughter, it reminds me of what Christmas should be. I'm stoked to share this time with Lucas and Shay, to give them a taste of what was and is so important to me.
Putting aside my disdain, I would like to wish you all the happiest of holidays. I hope they are spent in the company of those you love, be it family or friends, and are full of food and laughter and whatever you need to get through the day.
Sincerely,
h.
