Imagine this scene: it’s evening in early December, the children are in bed, and Dad is out at the local rink playing hockey. Mom is sitting at the kitchen table writing her Christmas card letters to friends and family. Each card she writes brings a childhood memory she shares with the recipient. Tears of nostalgia trickle down her face.
Yes, that was me in the 1970s. The people I wrote to are now mostly just a warm memory.
Jump to the second decade of 2000. The seniors’ residence was about to have their annual Christmas afternoon party. The lounge was filled with anticipation of Christmas music and a feast of sweets to follow. But no musicians had arrived. The worried activity director and the front desk staff were scrambling. What to do? My response to worried staff was to take the mic and ask for stories from the assembled residents.
I started with one of my own. A fancy gift: I was young, I had lost my engagement ring in a move. (Don’t ask, long, complicated and emotional explanation) and it was a few days before Christmas. I was checking pockets before throwing clothes into the washing machine. There was a receipt in my husband’s pocket for two diamond rings. Oh, goodie, he was replacing my lost ring! But wait, two? Oh no, I thought. He doesn’t play hockey in the evenings; he has another woman! I was distraught.
Too afraid to approach him about it, I talked to his sisters instead. They laughed at me. But I could not imagine why he would have purchased two diamond rings. On the outside, I was my usual jovial self, preparing for a happy family Christmas, but inside, I was heart sick.
When Christmas morning arrived and I opened my present, there sat two diamond bands. I looked at them in disbelief as my husband explained that one was to replace the lost engagement ring and the second was to celebrate our wedding anniversaries. I can’t remember how long I cried with joy, but my sisters-in-laws were right. Both rings were for me.
The residents got a chuckle out of my story, although I couldn’t show them my rings. In the intervening years, I had moved on to husband No. 2.
Standing at the mic, I then asked for other memories of Christmas from the assembled group. Funny, sentimental, sad, memories of Christmases past were shared. The musical entertainment not showing up had opened a space for storytelling and getting to know each other on a deeper level. What an unexpected gift we had that year. Living in an area without snow, I was surprised to hear so many nostalgic memories of snowy scenes, as well as family and friends’ gatherings.
Since retiring, I have had another kind of Christmas experience: barbecued rib dinner, outside with a tableful of old and new friends on the River Cuale in Mexico with musical entertainment and tequila.
I’d love for you to share your seasonal stories either online in the comments under my column or by emailing me directly: Laurie@lauriemconsulting.com
No matter how you celebrate the winter season, may it bring you joy, greater faith, and relief from cold weather.
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Laurie Mueller, M.Ed is retired and living in Victoria with her husband, Helmuth. She recently published The Ultimate Guide on What to Do When Someone You Love Dies, available on Amazon. More about Laurie can be found at www.lauriemconsulting.com or on Facebook.
Very nice article!