Gentry
"Perspectives"
December 2005 |
Christmas Memories
Time Well Spent.
Gentry's Christine VanDeVelde muses on holidays and their true meaning
Because of the time it takes to print and distribute magazines, the
articles that you read in holiday issues get written in August and
September. So if you work for a magazine, you find yourself doing the back
to school shopping at Target, throwing binders and pencil sharpeners and
gym socks into the cart… and thinking about Christmas.
This is especially difficult for me, because I have a rule about
Christmas: preparations cannot begin until the day after Thanksgiving.
That means no shopping for or buying of gifts, no "Deck the Halls" or
"Santa Baby," no red and green lights strung on the gate and no wreaths
hung on the door. On the Friday after Thanksgiving, we can hightail it to
Wegman's to find a tree, haul the Department 56 houses up from the
basement, festoon the live oaks with lights, and download "Frosty the
Snowman" to the iPod.
Every family has a narrative, a set of stories that define it. This is one
of ours -- Mom won't let us start celebrating Christmas until after
Thanksgiving. It joins the story of my daughter's long letters to Santa
and the elaborate snacks she left out for the reindeer and the story of
how stringing 2,000 lights on the Christmas tree every year makes her
father grumpy. The holidays are rife with opportunities to add to a
family's narrative and one of the best ways to do that is by establishing
traditions around the season. Such rituals help our families remember not
just who we are, but also what it is that we value.
One of the things I value is family time -- and don't ask me why this is
so hard to come by. In response, however, when my daughter was young, I
created an Advent calendar filled, not with chocolates or ornaments, but
with suggestions for how to spend time together each day. Having a picnic
in front of the Christmas tree with hot dogs and Christmas cookies,
reading Rumer Godden's "The Story of Holly and Ivy," deciding together on
a holiday charity or going out to breakfast with a friend on the way to
the last day of school before Christmas break. These are a few of the
Advent activities we've enjoyed over the years that have become family
traditions.
I have also gone to great lengths to blur the line between magic and
reality in preserving the myth of Santa Claus for as long as possible. Who
doesn't remember trying to stay awake to see Santa's sleigh streak across
the sky? The anticipation and excitement of that fantasy make a child's
holiday memories indelible. When I was growing up, my father hauled a bale
of hay up onto the roof every Christmas Eve "for the reindeer." My friend
Courtney Cochran remembers a sooty footprint leading out from the
fireplace that kept her a true believer just when she was beginning to
doubt. And what parent hasn't tiptoed into the living room to down cookies
and milk at midnight? For children now grown, these stories are a metaphor
for the holidays' generosity of spirit and another chapter in their
family's story.
Because it's not about the presents. It's the stories -- the memories --
that are the most important thing we take away at this time of year. So
pay attention to your own family's tales, remember and repeat them. A few
years ago, our family friend Tarni Bell, along with her brother, created a
memory box for their mother. In an old wooden treasure chest, they placed
over 150 of their best memories, each tied up with a red ribbon -- each
one a part of their family's story. I can't imagine finding a more
wonderful present under the tree. Because memories -- especially holiday
memories -- are gifts that can be enjoyed on any day of the year, even
while strolling the aisles of Target on an Indian summer afternoon. Merry
Christmas… |
