Today happens to be one of those somewhat rare occurrences when our weekly visit happens to fall on Christmas Eve. Growing up, I think I looked forward to Christmas Eve almost as much as I looked forward to Christmas day. My mother and father grew up with different ways of celebrating Christmas, and I think my sisters and I were the prime beneficiaries of that. My mother's side of the family (the Browns) had their Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve; while my father's side (the Patricks) did their Christmas thing on Christmas morning. For me, this meant being able to open presents on two different occasions. I know the “true” meaning of Christmas doesn't have to do with opening presents and Santa and all that, but try convincing a boy of seven or eight otherwise.
I can close my eyes and still remember the day, even now. The day would begin with a great deal of hustle and bustle, especially in the kitchen. My mother would be preparing whatever she was going to take to Mama Mae and Daddy Jim's (my maternal grandparents) for dinner that evening. Around 5:30 or 6 in the evening, we would load the car with the gifts for my mom's side of the family and head to Greenville. I still remember the smell of Mama Mae's house as you walked in the door. For many years, we had a full-blown Christmas dinner with turkey, dressing and everything else. Before dinner, dad would make the traditional egg nog that we enjoyed every year. There would also be hot chocolate, prepared on the stove top. My powers of persuasion often allowed me to enjoy both the hot chocolate and at least a little bit of the egg nog. We would sit down to dinner and have a grand meal. At one point in time, the phone would ring and on the other end of the line would be Santa himself, making sure all was well and good behavior was still being practiced.
After dinner, it was time to open presents. One tradition we all looked forward to was the exchange of several “joke” gifts. These gifts, and the laughter they would bring, became as much a part of the tradition as anything else. Some of these gifts were passed around for several decades. Once all the gifts were exchanged, I would come back home to Perry, but the joy of Christmas Eve was far from over. Mama Patrick and Papa (my paternal grandparents) would always come to Mama Mae's for the festivities. They would then come to Perry to spend the night at our house. As I rode in the back seat of their car, with Christmas music playing on the radio, I would keep an eye fixed on the night sky out the back window; hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa's sleigh flying across the sky. Once or twice, I thought for sure I had seen it, though it may have been a simple airplane. Mama Patrick always insisted on sleeping in my room on Christmas Eve. I never minded that in the least and considered it an honor.
As the evening wore on, a quietness would settle over the house. The business of the day would give way to the kind of peacefulness that comes from simply looking at the lights of the Christmas tree. The love in the air would warm you like a comfy, ugly Christmas sweater. That's what I wish for each and every one of you tonight and for all the Christmas Eves to come; here on the Sunny Side.