Christmas memories linger

Christmas is over for the year. Scraps of wrapping paper still lurk in the living room. All that good food we ate has made our clothes a tiny bit tighter and our resolve to exercise a little more important. The memories we have made with family and friends linger on.
Christmas this year lasted longer than usual. We had our family celebration a few days before the actual holiday due to conflicting work schedules of the people involved. My husband and I will celebrate by ourselves on the actual holiday. We will do Christmas with the grandkids the next time we visit them.
I received some good presents this year and can’t wait to see if the mushroom growing kit I received really works. Unfortunately, the two little cats I carved for my mom disappointed her as she asked where the big cat I started more than a year ago was and why didn’t I finish that one. I had already explained that the other carving was beyond my current ability to finish but that wasn’t good enough. At least she didn’t throw the carvings I gave her across the room as my grandmother once did with an offending present.
So even though I consider this Christmas one of the better ones, it wasn’t always this way. I know that most of you will have had a wonderful time with family and friends and some of you will have had a strained holiday that left bitter memories. I do want you to realize that the rotten holidays don’t have to last and that next year will be better.
My brother, David, started a new tradition this year. After the annual wrapping paper fight we were in the kitchen escaping any lingering salvos of paper. I cut a piece of one of the three, count them  — three, pumpkin pies that were on the table. It seems each family had brought one.
Before I could add the canned whipped cream, David snatched the can and squirted the fluffy stuff onto the front of my good shirt.
I promptly returned fire and soon we were giggling like five-year-olds. I hadn’t been in a good whipped cream fight in years. After it was over, the dog cleaned up the floor and David cleaned the whipped cream off my back and hair. We had barely eliminated the evidence when my nephew came in for his own piece of pie. I grabbed the can and deposited a quarter sized blob onto his chest. His look of shock was priceless.
I told David that the whipping cream reminded me of my mother-in-law. She was a prim and proper lady and the first time she lined up her four granddaughters and squirted whipped cream into their open mouths, I was astounded. It seemed so out of character and has become one of my favorite memories of her.
We visited and after awhile the cousins left to go do whatever teenagers do when none of them are old enough to drive yet. We packed up Mom’s loot and deposited her safely at home. We were about halfway to our own home before the rain stopped.
In spite of enjoying the time spent with my family, I never did get into the spirit of Christmas this year. Some years are like that. I bought and received what I considered good presents. I spent time with people I enjoy.
But I have yet to feel the overwhelming feeling of goodwill that I usually feel. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the memories we have made with friends, family and whipped cream. What matters is that we were all together for our most important celebration of the year.[[In-content Ad]]