CHRISTMAS
Later after my two younger brothers came
along, Christmas became a group conspiracy with begging and pleading aimed at
my sainted Mother who had to weather the annual assault of needs, desires and
demands for various toys that held a heroin like hold on our imaginations. Merry
Christmas guys!
I remember I always wanted a dog (this
actually lasted well unto my adulthood) but we rented and the lease specifically
stated "no pets". If truth be told my Mother had a deathly fear of dogs, cats
or any other creatures that she believed did not belong in a dwelling with
people, so being a smart ass I would remind her that the baby Jesus was born in
a manger with all sorts of animals. This was called invoking the "big guy" and
was clearly my version of the nuclear option. My father then would say
something profound like "The question is no!!!" followed by ..."and your not
Jesus". This from a man who started his working career as a Shepard while a boy
in his native Sweden!
My mother would always include clothes wrapped as gifts to inflate the 'haul" beneath the tree but my brothers and I learned to unwrap these with the same kind of reverence we held for toys and later baseball gloves, footballs, tennis rackets and basketballs. It made my Mother feel better that while my parents could not give us everything we craved..they gave us things we liked.
We would usually go to my Aunt's
house for Christmas dinner which would be a Norman Rockwell feast with turkey,
mashed potatoes, stuffing, fresh rolls,string beans and carrots and at least
four kind of pies. (My grandmother lived with us while I grew up and she had
this fantastic habit of baking at least two pies a day). Over time we developed
a custom of holding some gifts aside to take to my Aunt's where the extended
family and friends of my Aunt and Grandmother would join us. One
Christmas during my teen years, my Grandmother's oldest friend ...who was
notoriously cheap and just as rich ...gave my Mother
as a present, a box of yellowed waxed paper
which clearly had been originally purchased immediately after the fall of
Tobruk
I was confounded by two distinct
sensations...the need to suppress a tsunami wave of laughter that was about to
consume me and an intense intellectual curiosity as to how my always polite and
kind mother would respond to this unique gift from another era. She did not
disappoint. In a response worthy of a seasoned diplomat she said " Thank you so
much...you can always use waxed paper!" That was my Mom! Merry Christmas
Mom!
I was raised as a Protestant...a
Baptist if you will... largely due to the fact that one of my Aunts was a
ferocious church lady who every Sunday would pick up my brothers and myself plus
at least seven other urchins in danger of losing their immortal souls, for
Sunday school where I dutifully learned about Christianity and
particularly the spiritual aspects of Christmas and Easter. My
Aunt was a formidable force of nature who would not take no for an answer when
it came to issues of faith and the Bible. My Father had been baptized a
Lutheran and my mother like my Grandmother did not belong to an organized
church, so this pretty much was a weekly abduction since no one ever asked my
brothers and myself what we wanted.
One Christmas Eve at my Aunts is
particularly memorable due to the fact that my family was notoriously against
the imbibing of spirits in any form. This was hard on my Dad since he was
Swedish and loved his beer. Out of respect for my Grandmother who raised me
while my Mom worked and who was known to pack up and flee if she smelled demon
rum or any other variation of beer or liquor on someone's breath, he never ever
brought a beer into our house when she lived with us. Merry
Christmas Grandma!
However he did come home in a jolly
mood one Christmas Eve and fell into bed so
hard, while singing loudly in Swedish, that my poor Mother was
catapulted out of a sound sleep on to their bedroom
floor.
But I digress... my Aunt the church
lady always pretended even to her best friends, that she was a non drinker.
Well it appeared that she had fooled all of us because on this occasion after
her friends had left, she ordered my Uncle to get her annual
"Christmas medicine" in a yellow Dixie cup. The medicine was Southern Comfort
and she drank it like a truck driver at a "honky tonk" roadhouse. Imagine the
sound of an empty Dixie cup hitting the bar with a smack! Merry Christmas
Aunt "Noni" and Uncle Vern.
Meanwhile, little did my family know save
my Aunt "Rut", that I had secretly begun a romance with the Roman Catholic
Church that first began during grammar school when I would ride my bike over to
the convent at St. Mary's each and every Saturday to ask the nuns if they had
any errands for me to run. Later my attraction to Catholicism would manifest
itself at Christmas when I would go to Midnight Mass with friends or a
girlfriend and be utterly entranced by the Latin, the candles, the music, the
incense and the fact that if I went into any Catholic Church anywhere in the
world, the mass save the homily would be comprehensible if you knew your
Latin and your Catechism. It was at Midnight Mass that I begin to take what I
had learned at Sunday School and incorporate it into a spiritual journey that
would end up lasting a lifetime centered around the real meaning of faith and
especially Christmas. My Aunt "Rut" was my only confidant. Merry
Christmas Aunt "Rut"!
I also as a teen became enchanted
with the Christmas books of Charles Dickens and was especially fond of the
Alastair Sim film version of "A Christmas Carol" which is
now having it's 63rd anniversary. I also came to love Frank Capra's "It's a
Wonderful Life" which is having it's 67th anniversary. I never miss
these!.
Somehow over the years all of the above
have combined to put Christmas for me, in a rich and rewarding perspective that
goes beyond the presents and the food and the music and the books and films and
even the attendance at Mass, which I truly love. In this age of
disbelief...this age of vulgar appetites and cultural nihilism... Christmas is
critical to and indeed responsible for putting the best attributes of
humankind on display if even just for the brief season of
Christmastide.
Christmas is under attack by those who
fear the best of us and who would be content to make it a secular event for
commercial reasons thereby reducing it to a mere reason to shop. But they will
not win because the spirit of Christmas is too strong. The presents of
Christmas represents generosity and caring...the food of Christmas represents
the family and friends that enrich and fulfill our lives...the music of
Christmas represents the surrender to the best emotions that we harbor within
ourselves but often suppress...the books and films of Christmas represent our
need to see these noble feelings manifested and vindicated...and the celebration
of Christmas in a place of worship or simply in a place of prayer reminds us
that the divine can enter our lives not just at Christmas but when ever we have
the courage to summon it.
Christmas makes us better
people...Christmas makes the world a better place...Christmas makes us holy
whether one believes in God or not... Christmas is an announcement that joy is
our inheritance if we choose to believe that there is more to life than just
us...Christmas beckons everyone who believes in the redemption and salvation of
love...
To all my kids, family and friends
...here and on the other side.. Merry Christmas... and to my
wife who is Christmas for me.. 365 days a
year... 143.
ERLANDSSON
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