wake me when it's over!. . .

My usual thoughts at this time of year are, ‘I wish that I could stay in a closet until February!’. . . like a bear, I want to hibernate and forget about all the hoopla that goes along with this season. . .just wake me when it’s over.  I’m pretty much a ‘Bah Humbug’ kind of person, and yet, I just finished 72 handmade Christmas cards, go figure.   I come into the holidays kicking, screaming, and complaining.  But then I think, who do we have to blame for all of it?  Who do we blame for all the decorations, all the gifts, all the baking and cooking, and all the wrapping, all that wrapping?  Who?..the retailers?  Yes, they do bombard us with Christmas way back in October. . .whatever happened to starting the Christmas season AFTER Thanksgiving??  Well, my conclusion is that us women are to blame!!!  Yes, we did it all. . .are we such gluttons for punishment, or are we just so into celebrating???  I know that I’m not into all of this,  but we’ve been programmed by our mothers. . .we grew up with all of the so called ‘Hoopla’, and we just keep it going. . .year. . . after year. . . after year!!!   Be honest, if it was left to the men, there wouldn’t be ANY celebrations!!!   It’s not that I don’t like Christmas, but there’s just so much to do for just one day. . .and why is there so much to do?   Why do we buy so much, cook so much, bake so much, and wrap so much?  

I always did it for my sons, they love Christmas, and I always made sure that they would, but now, I’m at a point in my life where I want to cut down on everything.  When the boys were younger, we always cut down our Christmas tree, I actually loved that, my husband, Jerry, not so much.  We have a lot of photos of his ass sticking out from under numerous trees, looking for the best place to cut. . .when you’ve seen one of those photos, you’ve pretty much seen them all!  When we had the room, we would get an 11’ tree. . .ask Jerry how easy that was to straighten.  That tree that goes up, sooner or later comes down. . .that’s always a chore, and many a time I contemplated putting Easter eggs on it.

In the Polish tradition, our big celebration is on Christmas Eve, Wigilia, pronounced Vee-geel-ia, which literally means vigil, and supposed to be a fast from meat.  When I was little, it was always at my paternal Grandmother’s house, where we lived, and was always a meatless meal, which consisted of mushroom soup, and cheese or sweet cabbage pierogi, and a breaded baked fish.  Over the years, my kids and my cousins kids were not all that happy with meatless, so kielbasa, chicken fingers, & ham were added, along with an array of salads.

Wigilia 1965

                                

 After dinner, the 3 of us, myself, and my cousins Alan and Sharon, would wait for Santa to come.  There we sat, in our best Christmas outfits, velvet or taffeta dresses, and Alan with his hair all slicked back.  We always opened our gifts on Christmas Eve, and ‘Santa’ always made an appearance. . .usually an uncle or family friend who for that evening took on the ‘Santa’ persona.  He was driven to each relatives house by yet another uncle.  Our house was always the last stop, and by the time ’Santa’ got there, he was pretty well hammered.  After the gifts were distributed to us,  ’Santa’ always made his way to the kitchen, where a shot of so-called ‘celebration’ was waiting for him.   Hmmm, so that’s why ‘Santa’ always smelled like booze!!

My cousins Alan and Sharon waiting for Santa.

  
           
On Christmas Day, we visited my maternal Grandmother’s house, and since she had 10 children of her own, there were a lot of us cousins.   This ‘Santa’, and I use the term ‘Santa’ loosely, was the most scary-ass Santa that you’d ever want to meet.  He came in ringing his bells, and snapping his ‘pida’ (spelling???), leather straps, that we were always threatened with if we were ‘BAD’!!  He wore a horsehair mask, and a satin baseball jacket that was all shredded. . .SHREDDED!!!!!. . .what the hell kind of a Santa figure was this guy!!!!!  Of course we stood silently, afraid to make a move for fear that he would whack us with his strap.  Before he gave us a present he asked if we were good all year, of course we said we were.  Except for one time when we were a little older.  He made his rounds to all of us, and then got to my cousin Jimmy. . .Santa asked Jimmy if he was good, and Jimmy looked him right in the eye and said “NO”. . .OH MY GOD!! he said “NO!”. . .what would happen to him?????  Well, I don’t remember a thing about what came next, and I’m pretty sure that was the last time Santa visited.  When I think of that now, I wish I had that horsehair mask, it’s a pricey collectible item.

SANTA????????????

                                                         

When Jerry and I were first married, we got such a great deal on a real Christmas tree.  We bought it at the Bailey Market, a local farmers market in our neighborhood at that time.  The tree was all tied up with twine, and it was frozen. . . and it cost $1.00!!!   We were so excited about the deal that we got, but I figured that once we got it home, and cut the twine, the tree would probably look like crap.  But that wasn’t the case, it was beautiful, the perfect shape.  What we didn’t expect was that every time we passed it by, you could hear needles fall.  More and more needles kept falling, and before we knew it, the tree was just about bare. . .didn’t even make it to Christmas. . .a Charlie Brown tree for sure!!

And so it goes, Christmas after Christmas. . Traditions passed on. . .stories to tell. . .memories to look back on.  And for as much as I hate this time of year, we have something very special this Christmas, our first Grandchild, our Grandson, Henrik Finn.  He’ll make this a most wonderful time for us. . .a time to make new memories. . .who knows, maybe Henrik will show me that there is a good side to all the hoopla.