Merry. Christmas, my Coffee friends. I thank you for dropping by to visit. Coffee turned 20 last year. My first musings, on blogger, in 2004 were about the Sox and their journey to the World Series. It was also the year I had retired. Such big events in one year!!

I have been ruffling through my memory drawers. Christmas is easy to find. I have so many stories and so many memories. I love finding the right gift. My sister calls it the Christmas curse, a gift from our mother. We find one gift and think it is not enough, and that goes on for a while. We always give each other many presents, some fun, something to wear, a book and some special gifts. This year my sister Sheila gave me a pair of slippers with the picture of Henry and Nala on the stairs. Their names are above. Moe gave me rolls of Reeds cinnamon and root beer life savers. My mouth is burning now from the cinnamon. When I was in Ghana I craved root beer, for some odd unknown reason. I never found any there, but my sister always find some here. My sister gave me a cloth ornament of Ben Franklin holding a kite. I love cloth ornaments. I smiled the whole time I unwrapped presents.

When I was a kid, there was the tiniest open bannister toward the bottom of the steps from upstairs. That’s where we got our first look at the tree surrounded by presents. Most were unwrapped. I can still see my new blue bike in front of all my presents. It was the best present I ever got. I swear we were stunned for a bit then we’d racedown to our presents. Each of us had a pile with only our presents, most unwrapped but a few wrapped written from mom and dad. We’d open those then check out all our gifts. The games were often in the front. I remember the year of Sorry. That game stayed with us forever. We played it on Saturday game nights for years.

We again checked out our gifts and played with them until we got ready for dinner time. Christmas dinner was the best dinner of the year for me. We were all finely dressed. One of my dinner outfits had been a gift that Christmas. We often had roast beef, a good piece of meat, mashed potatoes, peas, corn and sometimes a surprise vegetable like butternut squash or, my all time favorite, creamed onions. Desserts were many. I went for the sugar cookies, and for my special box of cookies labeled To: Leenie Love, Uncle Jack. They were his anise cookies, my all time favorites, and the cookies were his gift to me. They were perfect, the best I ever had, and they have a forever spot in my memories.

Christmas overflows with meaning. We carry traditions and add new ones. One of my family dishes, added by my mother, is the butternut squash dish. We have all made Whoopi Pies but it is my sister who stands out, and they have become her tradition added to the rest. I gave Christmas stockings to all three of my sister’s kids. One came from on-line, another a friend knit, and I needlepointed my niece’s. It became tradition. I have given stockings to 5 grandnephews and one grandniece. My sister reminded me I needed to get the stockings so I did. Family memories get wider and longer. They become traditions.

This entry was posted on December 25, 2025 at 2:45 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: Christmas, family, Holiday, holidays, life