grandma’s house
When I was young Christmas Day almost always meant a trip to Grandma’s house in the country. That would be my maternal grandmother, as my father’s mother lived with my uncle after grandfather passed away.
We went to Grandma’s house for visits throughout the year, but it was the Christmas visit that I remember the best. Probably because there were so many people there. My mother was one of the youngest of ten children, most of whom had children of their own and some even grandchildren. Most of these usually showed up at Grandma’s house sometime or other at Christmas.
I can’t remember there ever being a Christmas tree at Grandma’s or any exchange of presents. Our family would open our presents before we left home and maybe we would take one toy with us. It was a long drive to the country and we needed to be there in time for Mom to help out in the kitchen before dinner, so we started out early. Once my little brother finally saw through the Santa Claus myth, we would sometimes open our presents on Christmas Eve so that we could get an earlier start.
Things seemed the reverse of a lot of gatherings where the children are the center of attention. At our family gatherings my grandmother always seemed to be the center of attention. Children were usually fed first in the kitchen and then shooed outside. Which was okay by us as there were innumerable cousins to become acquainted with. We always had a good time. Grandma never had a TV, or even a telephone for that matter, but we always found plenty to keep us preoccupied.
After dinner the women would sit in the kitchen and drink coffee and the men would gather around a stove on the closed-in porch.
I am not altogether certain Grandma even knew which one I was. I recollect talking with her on a few occasions, including once when she walked with me in the garden and told me the names of the flowers. That would have been sometime in the spring though and not during the Christmas visit.
Most years Dad would have to go to work the day after Christmas. So we would drive back that night. Usually we would start about nightfall. I would sit in the back seat and watch the colors of the clouds as the sun set and stars came out.
My grandmother passed away the year I graduated high school and Christmas completely changed for our family. No more trips to the country. I went away to college and never again lived in the same city as my parents. Soon my sister left home too and then my little brother. Christmas became for me my own homecoming, sleeping once again in the childhood room and playing the old familiar roles with the siblings.
December 28th, 2006 @ 3:54 am
We never lived around my grandparents either. My Mom’s folks were in Texas, and My Dad’s were in Oregon. We were either in Guam, Hawaii, or San DIego. So it was just our family, doing our thing!
December 28th, 2006 @ 3:10 pm
While we ate in the same room (usually) as the grownups, us kids were sat at our own little card table for holiday meals. The “kids” table became a pretty popular place. I recall younger aunts and uncles choosing to sit with us instead of the stuffy old grownups.
Nowadays, it seems kids are treated as mini-adults, seated at long formal dining settings, and expected to behave accordingly. How boring.
Your Christmas memories sound familiar…
December 29th, 2006 @ 11:21 am
NO TV! How wonderful is a gathering of folks with the TV turned OFF.
I don’t understand why it has to be on all the time in my father’s home. It was a huge relief that he discontinued his Christmas gather and instead joined my mother’s Christmas Eve gathering to be with us. It was SO much nicer than having endless repeats of The Christmas Story or, as last year, the Titanic (how is this even related? it was AWFUL.)
And he was amazed at how we ‘do’ Christmas’ - everyone opens their gifts one at a time, everyone talking and laughing, the little one(s) helping to distribute the presents between opening their own gifts…
Merry and Bright, we are, and it’s LOVELY.
December 30th, 2006 @ 12:04 pm
Er. Not ‘The’ Christmas Story, ‘A’ Christmas Story… you’ll shoot yer eye out, kid! Over and over and over again, thank you cable network…
January 22nd, 2007 @ 4:46 pm
One year at Grandma Tarkington’s house we did exchange presents. I remember because one of Grandpa Tarkington’s broters (Polk) had wrapped up a piece of cornbread for my present.
One time, not at Christmas, I was there when we were packing up things to send away to the soldiers–chewing gum,cigarettes, socks,underwear, chocolate bars, that sort of thing, for Uncle Preston, Uncle Earl, Uncle Booth, and Uncle Tom. All came home except Uncle Booth who remains forever in my memory and in various family photos hanging on the wall of Mom’s home a handsome 27- year-old lieutenant of artillery.
One hot summer day 2-3 years ago Mom and I visited the old home site in Bazette. There is still standing a farm building that Uncle Booth built–and sound and well-built it still is. Mom and I walked from the old homestead north past the farm lake all the way to the old school, following the same path that Mom, Aunt Lorene, and Aunt Paulene took to go to school every day. Mom’s memories were freshened, and she relived for me the incidents of the walks–including hanging the girls’ long leggings on the fence until they could retrieve them on the way back home after school. This must have been some time during the late 1920’s or early 1930’s.