Prompt # 68 - Memory Tree

Prompt # 68 - Memory Tree

Holiday memories include the eighteen Christmases I lived at home with my parents (and two younger brothers as they arrived) and the four years before my mother died, after I moved to BC to be closer to her. Christmas meant winter, snow, Santa Claus parades where helpers threw candy. After age 6, Christmas meant the school Christmas concert, with skits, plays, and choirs, and the arrival of Santa with a bag full of toys and an orange and candy for every child. The first role I remember, it must have been Grade 2 because my brother was in Grade 1, I was a baby doll, in my blue flower girl dress and a baby bonnet, and all I had to do was sit completely still under the giant Christmas tree on stage. I think it must have been some version of the Nutcracker because I remember my brother was a mouse and some of the boys were toy soldiers and my rival Jane was a Raggedy Ann doll with giant freckles drawn on her face with an eyebrow pencil. In Grade 3 I was offered a lead role but I did not want to talk so I asked if I could be one of the angels. Wish granted. I stood at the back of the stage with a spotlight shining the tinsel on our wings and halos. My ideal acting role.

At home, Christmas meant a tree, and stockings hung for Santa, and parcels to be opened after the breakfast dishes were done. Special foods were prepared weeks in advance—cakes made with fruit and brandy poured on them, steamed pudding, buns, roast turkey, dressing, jelly salads, brussels sprouts, massed turnip, potato, gravy. For the first eleven or twelve years, Christmas Day was at Grandma and Grandpa's farm and all the younger aunts and uncles would come home. The groups always split into men in the living room drinking whisky and maybe playing cards and women in the kitchen preparing the food. It was usually a big meal at noon and a turkey sandwich meal at supper. And it was always a ritual at Grandma's, crackers and cheese with cocoa before going home. We lived only three miles away, but the winter roads were unpredictable.

When G & G retired and moved into town, their house was too small for gatherings so we went alternately to our house and to Uncle Tom and Aunt Jean's, for Christmas and for the repeat, almost the same menu, prepared by the other hostess, for New Years Day. By this time we were down to the two families as all the other aunts and uncles had their own families by then. The one worry was the number of place settings. Grandma would not sit at a table of thirteen; it was bad luck. So there was usually a kid's table off to the side. Now a tradition started that on Christmas, one day a year, the men offered to do the dishes.

When I think of these memories, I miss Grandma, Mum, and Auntie Jean the most, because, being the only girl, I seemed to have spent most of my time with them, not with the men and the boys. They are all gone now, and I have neither parents nor children. I rely on the charity of friends, or I collect the widows and orphans and we celebrate together. This year I resolved not to bake, decorate, send cards, give presents, or entertain. Two out of five isn't bad. I did bake shortbread and gave a lot away. I am cooking for a friend tomorrow, and going to another friend's on the 25^th. I don't call it Christmas any more as I am not a Christian. I think the name should be saved for the true believers, out of respect for them. I celebrate the season, the Winter Solstice, which we all experience. Nature is inclusive and can bring us all together should we so choose. Where I live, here in Sto:lo territory, it has always been known as the Winter Dance season.

I just watched an interesting documentary with Joanne Lumley on her quest to see the Northern Lights. I would add them to my memory tree. The Northern Lights. Grandma Bridgeman. Auntie Jean. Mum. I miss them all.