I miss Christmas at my parents.
You never think about that not being a choice anymore.
Until it isn’t.
Growing up I had a lot of great Christmas memories. I remember getting a baby doll that rode a tricycle. I remember the music and the laughter. I remember my favorite gift at age 14 … a glass vanity with a makeup mirror. I had that thing until I was 19 and we moved. I always wished I had another one.
But my favorite Christmas’s were after my kids were born and we had Christmas with my parents.
They lived in the country on a family farm… but my dad would have lights in every tree and on every bush so the grandkids felt like they were going to a magical place as soon as they saw it.
My mom had the inside looking like the north pole! A beautifully decorated tree that exuded hobby lobby… a 12 foot long village complete with lights and ice skating for the figurines of the village. Garland hung everywhere complete with mistletoe! I miss all the family that showed up. Uncles, aunts, 1st cousins, 2nd cousins…. popping in while visiting their own families down the road. We had hayrides and caroling wars, food at our disposal anytime. The fireplace always lite and making crackling noises, leaving the entire house smelling of wood. The boisterous evenings with different games being played in various rooms. My dad always having a funny joke or story to share with animation. Grandkids were running this way or that way, giggling while playing with their cousins, excited to see what Santa would be bringing! We even had talent shows and karaoke. Our loud evenings were followed by quiet mornings with just my dad, drinking coffee on the screened in porch watching the birds and catching up on each others lives.
They were wonderful Christmas’s I got to share with both my children and my parents. You get so few of them in the grand scheme of life. I wish I would have held on to them tighter somehow. But instead of being sad those days are gone…I’m going to be thankful I had that time with my parents and that I have those memories.