A Pilgrim's Place: It's Still Christmas

The Eighth Day of Christmas

I was talking with someone the day after Christmas. He person asked if I was glad Christmas was over. I was shocked. First of all, in my calendar Christmas wasn't over. It runs for twelve days until the Feast of the Epiphany on January 6. But technicalities aside, I was shocked because I love Christmas. I don't want it to be over. There isn't a time of year I like better.

I suppose I obsess about Christmas. Ever since I've been living on my own I've tried to reproduce the wonderful Christmases I remember from my childhood. That's a rather precarious thing to do, because memory plays tricks on us. It can take the good bits from a dozen Christmases and string them together making you think they were all the same Christmas.

I suppose my experience of Christmas was partly enhanced because there was never a disappointment. I don't recall my parents ever asking me what I wanted for Christmas. They just gave me things. Everything was a surprise and therefore never a disappointment. Well, there were scratchy wool sweaters and sometimes underwear, but that was always a gift from one of my more practical grandmothers.

My attempts to reproduce the Christmases of memory have always failed. It was the people who made Christmas, but so many of them are gone now and the rest of us are scattered. The picture at the top of this blog is from Christmas 1951–my gosh, more than half a century ago. That's me, my mother and father. I figure my dad must have used a timer to click the shutter on the camera. He's almost never in Christmas pictures because he was always taking them. My father would have been 29 and my mother 25 and me a few months shy of three.

Now here comes a good one from 1955 where we're all gathered in my grandparents' home.

We all seem to be enjoying ourselves, but are Mom and Grandma showing off new pairs of bloomers they got for Christmas?

A few years after this my parents and grandparents changed apartments. That meant my mother inherited the Christmas dinner. I don't know the date for the next pictures, but there are probably the early 70s. My father's mother doesn't appear in the pictures, but my mother's parents do.

First are pictures from Christmas morning. I'm dressed up in a sweater and tie, so I have been to St. Luke's church with my aunt and uncle and cousins. I'm back home and the immediate family are opening presents. The were very understanding about my desire to go to church on Christmas Day. That's my sister Karen on the left and a much thinner version of me.

Ah, Mom got a present. If these were motion pictures, you'd see her carefully unwrap the paper so it could be used again next year.

Now it's Christmas night, drinks before dinner. From the right my cousins Adele, Darlene and Darlene's husband-to-be Jim.

And from the left me, Granpa Szlavik and Grandma Szlavik. Grandpa appears to be watch television. He never joined in conversations being a very quiet person. Grandma did all the talking. She seems to be inspecting her drink which is probably my father's infamous punch. Now at the table having finished Christmas Dinner.

Aunt Martha and Uncle Herb.

Grandma and Grandpa, Jim and Darlene's head.

Mom and Dad. I must have taken this picture because Dad is leaning way in not trusting me to have framed the picture properly to include him. In one aspect I still try to duplicate my memories–the Christmas Tree, I still purchase a real tree every year and decorate it. Here's my parent's tree in the 70s.

And my tree in 2007.

Most of the ornaments I have purchased one at a time fro my tree from places like Bloomingdales and Macy's. All of the ones I buy are made in Europe–Germany, Poland, Czechoslovakia. The top of my tree always has a spire rather than a star or angel. The tree my parents had when I was very little was also a spire. It broke one Christmas and was replaced with the lighted star.

Next come the pink, plastic cherubs by mother bought for my parents first Christmas tree. She always hung them herself near the top of the tree, and so do I.

Then some angel musicians she bought years later at Hoffings Department Store, six angels for 77 cents.

And some blown glass angels I bought. There were eight in all, but I gave four away as gifts to friends. I wonder if any of them still have them?

Now my pride and joy are my birds. My Grandma Kofink always had birds on her trees, and my mother, and so do I.

I like the red humming bird. There's a blue one also. Then comes every kind of ornament that strikes my fancy. Two of the oldest ones are a pink fish and a church that I bought in a set from the Smithsonian Institute 31 years ago.