This quote brought back a flood of childhood memories and made me chuckle. Sharing these experiences with you would be my pleasure, in the hopes that they spark your own cherished memories to touch you with Christmas spirit.
A Life-Changing Moment and a Heartwarming Story of Love
It was 1969 and I was just a young 11-year-old girl. Everything changed on the night of my parents' 25th wedding anniversary when my father had a massive heart attack while dancing and passed away. That night altered the course of my life forever.
Two years later, my mother reconnected with an old friend and a beautiful romance blossomed, which I must say, was fun to witness first-hand.
I’m one of those curious types (or maybe it was impatience) - yes that’s more like it. Every Christmas I would sneak a peek at my beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree. I’d carefully remove the Scotch tape, take a peek and then wrap it back up. Thinking of that now, you’d think Christmas morning would have been such a disappointment, but it wasn’t. I could still act surprised and joyful as if it were the first time I’d seen what was inside the package.
Christmas arrived and I had my eye on a gift that my mother's new love had left for her under the tree. They were apart for the holidays, he with his children and my mom with hers. It was a small package with a beautiful bow, and I was convinced that it was a piece of jewelry, and maybe even, an engagement ring.
Wanting to know my destiny, and letting my impatience take over, I carefully opened the present. My excitement was short-lived to find just a lighter inside. Imagine me thinking he would propose by just leaving a ring under the tree. I was not only curious and impatient, also naive.
Nonetheless, the quote "I don't know what's in the box, but I love it. Unopened gifts contain hope" comes to mind as it reminds me of that moment of anticipation and excitement.
Luckily, my mother's love eventually proposed to her and their love story continued with him becoming a loving step-father to me and an amazing grandfather to my children. I even gained a second sister and two more brothers from their union. Their love truly was a match made in heaven.
I’m a recovering perfectionist!
I’d like to share another story about presents that might contribute to me being a recovering perfectionist.
Each year I’d help my Grandma wrap her presents. She always demanded perfection, making sure that I wrapped each present seamlessly so that the paper's edges were not visible. I remember it being a long and tedious process, yet I loved to spend time with her in her pretty pink kitchen, at her bright pink table, so played my part - perfectly! Her obsession for pink is another whole story I’ll leave for another time.
This is how I wrap presents now. I’m just joking. Nowadays, I don't take things to the extreme as I did before. Although I still take the time to wrap gifts with care, I no longer strive for perfection. However, I must admit that I still appreciate a beautifully wrapped present.
Growing up Responsible
It was the year my dad died that responsible became my middle name. And the year my love-hate relationship began as I rebelled against the word itself. I can hear my siblings chuckling as I write this, maybe a few friends too!
Naturally, times were different after he passed. I’m guessing money was tight as my mom went to work at the local elementary school (more about that school in a minute). We had an empty bedroom in the basement and a boarder named Dutch came to live with us. A tall man towering well above me, with a demeanor like the friendly giant. He worked at the local bank and wore sweaters just like Mr. Rogers. He was my Grandma’s friend. At least that’s what they called him. I’m pretty sure he was a little more than a friend, yet we never spoke about him that way.
Every day after school I would wave goodbye to my friends. Kathy ‘Responsible’ Stott had to return home to cook the family meal. Fried pork chops were my specialty. I remember it being every single day that I missed out playing with my friends and being a kid. It might be that I only had this responsibility sporadically when my mom was busy and it’s funny how we remember things when we’re young.
Responsibility stepped up on stage with me that holiday season in 6th grade at the annual Christmas concert. Three of us had practiced and our gig was singing “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” or The Christmas Song.
The music started, and like deer looking into headlights, my two friends froze. They couldn’t even open their mouths. Knowing that my mom (the School Secretary) was in the audience, there was nothing to do but be responsible and sing alone. After all, I would surely let her down and maybe even embarrass her. So I sang alone.
This experience, causing distress for years, has left a lasting impression on me. However, it has also allowed me to learn and grow in ways I couldn't have imagined.
Do you hold your childhood Christmas memories close to your heart? I hope you’ll take a little time today to sit in stillness and remember. I’d love for you to share a story or two.
As we near Christmas, my wish for you is a week full of ease and joy. Chat soon!
PS: My step-dad was the first person to introduce me to the famous Christmas elf. In fact, if he had thought to market that little elf that magically moved around the house, we’d be a millionaire family. This was back in the late 70’s, well before Elf on a Shelf became a thing. I’ll write a story about that next time.
Your memories obviously spark mine, being your “big sister”. So much fun! I can recall an elf from before Dal which I’m pretty sure was Christmas decor at Stott’s Jewelry. Don’t know where it is now but we had it for the years my kids were growing up.
I don't have a memory to share right now but I just want to say I love your newsletters! xox