Today is the usual, cloudy and cold with a bit of wind added to make it even more miserable. I saw stuffing from Nala’s latest victim blowing across the driveway section in the backyard. I am staying inside again. Outside is just too uninviting. I have no plans. I will take a shower and make my bed, my only exertions for the day. I have a new book, some cookies left and some egg nog still in the bottle; however, the kitchen floor is a mess of paw prints. I hope I can resist the need for clean.

After writing about being at my grandparents during Christmas time, I got to remembering. I remember I used to hang in the kitchen and listen. My mother and usually her two adult sisters would sit at the table with my grandmother. My grandmother always wore a housedress under an apron with a bib. Her slippers were bent down in the back and her stockings were rolled to her ankles. My mother and one of my aunts smoked. My mother and the same aunt who smoked usually had a drink. My other aunt was a bit prissy in her own way, one of her own ways, and she did not smoke or drink. They talked about all sorts of things. Christmas was foremost. Sometimes I got a little bored and went wandering but always ended back at the kitchen, the best spot for me. The only other choice was to watch football with my father and uncles, and I couldn’t pull that off, as if I knew anything about football back then. I was comfortable in and loved the kitchen. That’s what I mostly remember about Christmas at my grandparents back then. 

I do have some memories of my other grandparents, my father’s parents. After midnight mass, they’d come back to my house where my mother had prepared dips and snacks and drinks. My grandparents insisted they wanted to see us come downstairs to be surprised by what Santa had brought so we got awakened on purpose and were told Santa had come so we went downstairs. I was a kid. I didn’t know or care what time it was. It was late enough, or maybe early enough, for me. Santa had come. We got to play with our new toys for only a little while before we were sent back to bed. We all hated that, but we did fall back to sleep. I don’t have any memories of my grandparents ever leaving. We even slept a little later in the morning. I remember waking up and thinking about my presents and being so excited to get up and run downstairs. What an amazing way to wake up for any kid, even a kid who had played for a bit with some of her toys, to realize Santa had come and there were presents and surprises waiting under the tree and in my stocking.

I don’t have other Christmas memories with those grandparents though a dinner one night at their house was the usual custom. I’m just forgetting the exact day. I was young. 

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