The Weaver Family

Like most Christmas seasons, this one finds me in a contemplative mood.  I start remembering past Christmases.

Christmas was always an event on my dad’s side.  Not only because of the Christian aspects of the holiday, but also because Christmas Eve meant family, and lots of it.  I was an only child, but every Christmas Eve meant an evening at the farm house with the local aunts, uncles, and cousins.  And every so often all my dad’s family would get together.  Did I mention he comes from a brood of nine? 

When you are a kid, you get wrapped up in the Christmas season.  Not only in wondering about what gifts you are going to receive, but also about giving gifts, and what the season means to you.  For me it meant family, good food (sans the oyster stew), and the birth of Christ.

Last Christmas season was hard, because I realized that I would never again hear Grandpa singing carols, reading the Christmas story, or talking to me about what Kath, I and Nick had been doing.  (Grandpa passed away in July.)

Luckily, I don’t have to deal with it most of the time.  Instead I get to have the type of Christmas I had as a child.  No we don’t have snow down South, but I do have a family that loves and accepts each other for all of our differences and imperfections. 

We open presents on Christmas Eve and relax on Christmas Day with the traditional ham and trimmings.  We sit around and share memories of Christmases past from our separate histories and our combined past as a family.  I get to tell my son about Christmases at the farmhouse, with all the family gathered, eating, singing,  celebrating, and opening gifts.  I get to tell him about the Christmas 2003, his first, and how dirt poor financially we were, about homemade decorations and paper snowflakes decorating our little tree.  I get to listen to him tell me about his favorite Christmas moments as he continues to grow up.

And when we do all our traditions again this year, and when it brings a tear to my eye like every year, I’ll hear my son say “You’re so sentimental”, in a voice that not only is starting to sound a lot like mine, but also has a tinge of Grandpa’s deep voice in it.

Merry Christmas to all.  I pray that this season brings you the joy of remembrance, and hope for the future, and finds you with your loved ones and friends.

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