Christmas Memories (Part 1?)

The woods are quiet. The daylight is long gone. Darkness shrouds everything; even the pristine, white, ocean of snow disappears in the black of Christmas Eve night. The only hint of light in the entire forest is the soft rainbow halo that paints the ground around the cabin. A chorus of jeers from inside breaks the silence of the woods. We are gathered behind its walls, laughing loving loud enough to shatter the peace on the other side.
It’s warm inside. The fire in the wood stove emanates throughout and the entire cabin feels like it’s wrapped in a quilt. It doesn’t hurt that there’s an entire gaggle of people packed into a space barely big enough for a couple. My entire family of five is there, along with my aunt and uncle and several cousins. My uncle’s tiny television is on in the corner, accompanying the fun with whatever Christmas cartoon was on at the time. My uncle hands me a present from under the tiny Christmas tree and I tear into it. It’s a plastic lightsaber, with a retractable green blade that lights up and makes noise, like the one used by Luke Skywalker in the movie Return of the Jedi.
I glance at my younger brother, who has just finished opening a similar package. He’s gotten same thing, except his is red and modeled after the one used by Darth Vader. Our eyes and hearts light up as we see each others’ new toys. We immediately tear open the packages and start to beg the grown-ups, hoping not to become victims of the infamous “batteries not included” scam. We’re lucky enough to secure some hulking D batteries, and with our weapons blazing, we lock ourselves in the bathroom and turn off the lights so that we can get the full effect during our duel.

I don’t remember exactly how old I was. My best guess is somewhere between eight and twelve, given that my younger brother was old enough to share my love of Star Wars, and I was still a couple years off from alienating toys as being childish. This memory does not stand out because of the toy I received. Those first ten minutes of fighting with my brother in the dark were probably the most enjoyment I ever got out of it, to be completely honest. I remember that moment because it was the pinnacle of my childhood, the penultimate representation of my early years.


Christmas is a time of love and happiness. While it’s almost always been that way for me, this memory is one of the best. We were all there, together, in that warm little room. Even my aunt and uncle, who were not on the best terms at the time (hence the reason my uncle was staying in my dad’s cabin in the woods,) got along great on that night. There was excitement in that air as these gifts from my relatives helped to calm the anticipation for Santa overnight.
While I have been blessed with having a wonderful family who has never had many problems among us, things have changed a lot since then. My uncle and aunt sorted things out a couple years later and have been living happily together ever since. My cousins would get married not long after and start their own family. These are great things, but it was also a change. As my aunt and uncle got grandchildren, my siblings and I lost our prominence as the babies of the family and became less involved in the Christmas tradition.
Yet those days still stand prominent in my memory. I love Christmas. The entire season is magical. From early November all the way up to the big day itself, and even a little beyond (let's face it: nobody can just drop the Christmas spirit in a single day. I'm pretty sure that's why New Years was invented: to give us time to cool down after the Holiday Season.) Every snowflake, every mug of hot chocolate, every square of wrapping paper and pine needle and ho ho ho is absolutely breathtaking to me.
It's been that way since the beginning. Ever since I was a child, nothing has ever excited me quite like Christmas. As a kid, it might have been for the presents. It's not every day that you get loads of cool new stuff. But even when it was the superficial things that mattered most, I don't think the general spirit of it all ever really escaped me. Christmas is just wonderful.
So it's no surprise that some of my absolute greatest childhood memories stem from that day. I have hundreds of brief moments in my head that have been implanted in my brain forever. Not even stories to tell, but just mental photographs of certain times instances in time, and the wonderful feelings that come with them. Of course, I have my fair share of feelings and stories as well.
With the holidays finally upon us, I've been thinking about putting them all down on paper. I always say that; every year, around this time, I say to myself that I love Christmas and I want to do a blog series about over the course of the month. It usually never comes to fruition, and I don't know if this attempt is going to be any better. So I'll say that this might be part one of a longer series, it might not. I don't know, I'm just going to roll with it.
A couple other things I'd like to mention. First, I may be doing a lot of discussion about toys and presents. I'm not going to pretend that presents aren't awesome. As a kid, I got a lot of joy out of opening presents on Christmas and playing with them and stuff. I have a lot of memories of Christmas toys. Another thing is, Christmas presents are a physical object that we can attach memories to. In the memory I described at the beginning, I remember the lightsaber being so awesome, but the biggest reason I remember it is because of all the grand old times and jolly happy feelings that are attached to it. So although I may talk about them a lot, please don't think I'm materialistic for making gifts a focus of a lot of these blogs (that's assuming, of course, that it continues as a series.)
Second, Christmas is special to me, and I know I'm not the only one who feels that way. Everyone has their own Christmas memories, their own ups and downs of the season, their own moments of joy (or heartache.) As I share my memories with you, so too do I want to hear your stories. If you've got a Christmas memory, please pass it this way! If I keep these blogs up, I might do a compilation of other peoples' stories. Who knows? Also, it doesn't have to be limited to Christmas itself. Anything pertaining to the season is fair game. New Years, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah (Whitly, I'm looking at you), or just winter in general. If you've got a story to tell, pass it this way!


When I was a kid, Christmas Eve was ultra-exciting. The day was wrought with tension as my siblings and I counted the minutes to evening. We would do whatever we could to pass the time and occupy ourselves. During the golden age of Cartoon Network, they would have a twenty-four hour marathon of Christmas cartoons on Christmas Eve, and that was a prominent feature of our day back then.
I remember one year, my dad was laying down in his bedroom upstairs. (He worked an awkward shift in those days and often slept during the day.) He had the TV turned on to Cartoon Network. I laid down with my dad and we watched it for a while. He thought I fell asleep and got up, leaving me to watch Yogi's Christmas alone.
In the evenings, we would go to my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Ronnie's. This isn't anything out of the ordinary, as we visit them all the time anyway, but on Christmas Eve, it was different. On Christmas Eve we got treats and desserts, and most of all, PRESENTS. When we'd arrive, my siblings and I would walk in, almost shaking with repressed excitement. And there, in the corner of their living room, would be the Chrstmas tree, usually wider but less decorated than our tree at home. The lights were brighter, more pastel-colored, and spaced farther apart, complemented by the neatly wrapped boxes under its branches.
Of course, we could never just dive right in. The adults always had to have coffee and torture us even more with suspense before we could open up. Again, my siblings and I would usually occupy ourselves with whatever shows happened to be on their ridiculously old yet huge TV set (which they still have, by the way.) I remember one time watching a cartoon about a bunch of elves who fought a battle with trolls or something over Christmas. It was weird.
Within the first ten minutes of the visit, my siblings and I would always make our way over to the tree to take a peek under. We'd nonchalantly glance at the tags on the presents, trying to catch a glimpse of which ones were meant for us.
Finally, when the sky was dark and the adults had finished their chit-chat, everyone sat down in the living room and presents were dished out. We often got gifts for my Aunt Kathy and Uncle Ronnie as well as them getting stuff for us, mainly as a gratitude thing. One year we got my uncle, who used to be an avid fisherman, a large pillow that looked like a salmon. It was packaged in styrofoam and wrapped in plastic like you'd find the fish in at the deli.
With all the tension built up over the day, when we had our boxes in hand and finally recieved the go ahead, we tore into our presents like no tomorrow. Like dipping into a pie after smelling it in the oven all day. It was all at once a massive release of excitement and tension as we ripped and tore and jumped with joy at what we got.
I honestly don't remember too many of the gifts I got. Hess trucks were common, though I'm not sure how that tradition ever got started. I think it had something to do with my cousin--their son--working at a Hess station when I was really little. But for a few years, we were pretty much guaranteed to get Hess trucks from aunt Kathy and and uncle Ronnie for Christmas. We never got to play with them, either. We would get to take them out of the box right when we opened them, pop some batteries in and test them out, then they got put back in the box and never opened again for the collector's value.
One year my sister got a Disney Sing-Along VHS tape with a Mary Poppins song on it. I have no idea why I remember that. One time my brother got a remote control robot insect. I once recieved a game set that had Chess and a few other games all in one box. I also got a decent collection of Star Wars stuff from them, if memory serves.
Once everything at the house was done, then we headed over to the cabin. My aunt and uncle went through a rocky period in their relationship when I was a kid, and for a few years, my uncle moved out of the house and was staying in my dad's cabin in the woods nearby. It's sad that they were fighting, but on the bright side, it gave way to a great Christmas tradition.


After opening all of the presents from the house, my uncle would take my siblings and I to the cabin in the woods, where there would be another tree and even MORE Christmas presents. He would put on the same TV shows that were on before, and we'd start the whole process over again. We weren't allowed to open the second set of presents until the other adults came over to the cabin, but of course they wouldn't come right over. They'd sit at the house for ten to fifteen minutes before coming over the cabin.
When they'd finally get there, we'd tear open the next set of gifts. We'd laugh and play. Sit by the fire, Enjoy ourselves in the little cabin tucked away in the woods as the snow falls outside. One big happy family. That's such a perfect Christmas it could be a Hallmark card.
Man, those were the days. That was a great time. So many happy memories that I wouldn't trade for anything. How nice it was not to have to worry about getting that research assignment done or getting to work on time.
All good things must come to an end eventually. As we got older, Aunt Kathy and Uncle Ronnie patched things up, ending our practice of having Christmas Eve in the cabin. Their daughter, my cousin Amy, got married, and she and her husband had a son. They started celebrating with the family on Christmas Eve, too. At first it was just more people, making it an even jollier night, but also started a change. My siblings and I were getting older anyway, so with my aunt and uncle's growing household, we lost our prominence as the babies of the family.
When my other cousin got married and started having kids, that pretty much spelled the end of Christmas Eve at their house. We still went and got presents. I remember a year near the end of the run when I got ankle weights for working out, which I still use on an almost daily basis, and a crap ton of candy. But reached a point where Christmas Eve was no longer about us and our family. It was THEIR night, to spend with their kids and grandkids, and we were just kind of there as extra company. We also started a new tradition of preceding that visit with dinner at another relative's (which I might talk about in a later blog,) and it started to overshadow Aunt Kathy and Uncle Ronnie.
I don't want to sound spiteful or anything. I love my cousin's and I'm not trying to come off as jealous that they took away our tradition by having babies. Things just change with time. It's part of growing up.


We still go up there on Christmas Eve sometimes, but the role of it has been drastically reduced. If we go, it's usually just for a few minutes to say hi. If we get gifts, which we usually don't, it's probably a ten dollar gift card or something. It's not a big deal, as we see them all the time anyway, and I've since learned that there's way more to Christmas than presents and being the center of attention.
Still, sometimes I wish I could be a kid again. Back in that dark bathroom in that cabin in the woods. Sometimes I wish my brother hadn't broken his lightsaber and that we could go back to finish our duel. Sometimes I wish I had the same excitement. I think the reason is that remembering such a thing brings me back to a more innocent time. I was a child, with no care in the world but what was inside of the brightly wrapped packages under the tree. I didn’t have to worry about going to work. I never had to worry about the price of gas or a, shall we say, less-than-friendly boss at work*. My peers were not dying in the middle east. The news was not spreading fear about new diseases. I was just a child; we were just a family, together for Christmas.
I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoyed reading it. I'm going to try to continue this as a series over the course of the month. Also, please be sure to pass your Christmas memories my way in the comments or by sending me a message. If I get some good stuff, I'll make a compilation post of other people's memories as well.
Oh yeah, sorry about the corny images, but I needed some way to break up the walls of text.

*Just to make it clear to the people reading this on my personal blog who know me in real life, the boss in question is the one with the initials "MS," NOT the one with the initials "SR."