Christmas Blog about Mom

 

This blog is about my favorite Christmas memory about my Mom. (and Jody too) Actually, this is my ABSOLUTE  FAVORITE Christmas memory, period.

This story starts with the Sears catalog. That massive tome showed up every winter to almost every household in the late season in the eighties.  As many children did, my sister and I marked off what we wanted...whether we thought we might get them or not. 

I was ten years old, and I can't tell you what I wanted the most, because that would give it away. I CAN tell you my little sister was in on it.

My Mother shops much as I do, finding giftable treasures during the year and only presenting them at Christmas. Mom also had a habit of wrapping gifts for Christmas early. She always started after my sister's birthday, on the 21st. of November. After that, no holds barred. 

My mother put the wrapped gifts in the spare room. Jody was clearly getting Lego that year. Not that I checked or anything...I was glad my gifts weren't that obvious because I enjoy surprises. 

One showed up for me. Mom had obviously used the box from Christmas cards to house it, but that was not a real clue. Mom gave me permission to shake it. 

Actually, she said, "You can shake that box all you want--You'll never figure it out." Moo-Hoo-Ha-Ha. 

I shook the Hell out of that thing every single day. Several times a day.  There was no discernable rattle or shimmy I recognized. Something was definitely in there. It sounded like a singular thunking that only moved with me and however  vigorously I shook it. It was one piece. I have no other way to describe it, even to this day. She was right....I never would have figured it out. 

Bear in mind, this is late November when she put that brain teaser out. So I endured an entire month of torture, trying to figure out what was in the box. I shook it endlessly, hoping for some clue, yet taking  delight when none came. It was delicious. It Drove. Me. BATSHIT.

So delicious, in fact, that I wanted to open it last. Mom said no. "If you don't open it first, your sister's gift won't make any sense." So I opened that box first, with the family watching. 

It was a piece of cardboard, and I was confused until I turned it over and discovered poinsettias painted in the corners. In my mother's printing were these words: (I am paraphrasing.) 

"This entitles the bearer, Donna (redacted) permission to have her ears pierced, to be paid for, by her parents, as soon as she is ready."

BEST GIFT EVER!!  

Jody's gift was six pairs of stud earrings I coveted from the first few pages of the Sears catalog. Also the best gift ever.  I can't remember every pair, but there were red roses, gold globes, gold seagulls, and my favorites, white porcelain ovals with yellow roses on them. I think there were a set of pearl-like earrings too. What am I missing? 

Oh, what a great Christmas for a ten year old! There was NOTHING I wanted more that year than to get my ears pierced and to own those earrings. The original plan was that I wait until I was eighteen to pierce my ears, but not anymore! I adored those earrings and I kept that homemade certificate for years. I'll never forget it. That one-two punch is my favorite Christmas memory to this day. Thanks Mom and thank YOU Jody for talking her into it. 

I still get a tingle of joy when I think of it.  

Christmas Stories About my Father.

 I want to share a Christmas story about my Father that makes me happy. It's going to be a bit backwards. If I told it forwards, I would give away the ending. 

I think it was 2004. Dan and I had bought a house and what better way to spend Christmas than to host family at our home?  

I can go on and on about the fun we had enjoying Christmas in a new house, but this is a blog, not a novella. 

There was a gift for me from my parents, big ugly, wobbly looking thing sitting under the tree. It was only unusual because my mother prided herself on beautifully wrapped gifts. This one looked particularly difficult to wrap, like Mom had to wrestle it into submission first. I certainly didn't judge...but it made me super curious. What was this thing that Mom had such difficulty wrapping? 

We made happy pleasantries and ate dinner, settling in for gift opening and drinks. I'm a bit of a masochist when it comes to unwrapping my presents. If I get a sense that I know what my gifts are, even if I know I'll love it, I open those first. If there is something that I simply can't figure out, I save it for last. I'll even wait until everyone else is done. I like to savor the mystery and torture myself with anticipation. All I knew about the unbalanced behemoth was that it was heavy. (Squeals of unknowing joy.) 

I tore the Christmas paper off and discovered that Mom had butchered two Tide detergent boxes and slapped them together with duct tape. A LOT of duct tape. I noticed my father from the corner of my eye. He looked antsy, hopping a bit from his spot on the couch, grinning like a purple cat. 

It was so bound up, I had to get up and grab a knife. I stabbed and sawed my way through to find....A black plastic cocoon. "So weird!" Dad was stifling his giggles. 

The big black cocoon had a handle and fasteners on the side. Ooh, a carrying case of some kind. So I opened it and found....

A Navigator Saw. 

I looked up at my father, who could no longer contain himself. "I liked mine so much, I thought you might want one of your own. You know, with you being a homeowner and all." He beamed with pride, and I jumped up to strangle him lovingly. 

I was delighted. "Thank you, Daddy!" What a great, grown up gift he chose for me! And he gave the sharp tool to ME and not the man of the house. For some reason, that just made it that much cooler. 

Two Christmases earlier, I had given him a Navigator Saw, and I remember his reaction well. I was sitting next to him when he opened it. He didn't say anything for what felt like a whole minute. I thought he was confused or maybe disappointed. 

"See Dad?" I said, "It has multiple, replaceable blades, and can be used in two different positions..." 

He slowly turned towards me and said, "Did you know these things can cut through pipe?"

"Um, yeah, I did." I said. "It was kind of the selling point." He put me in an affectionate headlock, and gushed about how he'd thought about buying one but had forgotten about it. 

It was one of his favorite Christmas gifts. Looking back, I think it was one of the most thoughtful gifts I'd given him--something he could really use in his work and in his own home, and that was definitely the point. 

Being a homeowner allowed me to see what my father needed. He didn't need a new shirt or statues of eagles and wolves. I considered buying one for myself, but my father was able to see that too. 

I still have mine. Yes, we used it on PC pipes. It's not as fabulous as I thought it was, because we burned through two blades doing it. I tried to find one for my friend to give to her husband, but no one knew of it. When my father died, I wanted to give it to my Uncle Duane. We found the saw, only to discover that the mechanism that locks the blades into position was broken. 

Maybe it wasn't the awesome tool I believed that it was. But it created good memories that will stick with me for the rest of my life. When it comes to Christmas memories, this is one of my favorites.  

And here is another...It's about this photo, and the odd look on my father's face. 

I think I was twelve when Dad got a new camera for Christmas. Dad liked to take photos of cool looking airplanes and he enjoyed taking pictures from the air, but he didn't have a decent camera. So Mom bought him one, with film. 

I was sitting on the floor, playing with it, and it understandably made him nervous. 

"What are you doing, Donna?"

"Nothing, "I said.  "Just checking out your new camera."

"Do you...Know how to use it?"

"No. How do you take a picture?" I asked innocently. 

"It's easy. See that button right there?" He pointed over my shoulder to the big button on the top right. "You point the camera, and press that button." 

"Oh...You mean...like THIS?" I spun to my left and click. 

I guess I wasn't very subtle, because that's the photo I got of him. I think he told me he knew I was going to do that. When we got the film back, it was obvious. I think it turned out pretty good, and I'm glad we still have it. 

Thanks for the great memories, Dad. This picture always makes me smile.