Memories of Christmas
by Denise Turney, author of "Portia"
Rudolph and Santa Claus on the television. Tender ham in the oven. Lights glowing around
the edges of the house. Children laughing. Parents sneaking upstairs to wrap presents.
Cookies and candy on the dining room table. Cousins, aunts and uncles ringing the front
door bell to say, "Hello!" This was Christmas at my grandparents' house when I was a little
girl. I spent all my Christmases at my grandparents. Insulated with good love, it was the
best place for three little boys and two little girls to be Christmas Eve through Christmas
Day.
I haven't seen the holiday cartoons I watched as a little girl in a few years. Today I chuckle
and hoot when I watch A Christmas Story. In fact, A Christmas Story (you know the
movie about the little boy who wanted a b-b gun for Christmas but was told the gun would
put his eye out) well, the movie was playing at a store my son and I visited today after
church. I smiled and told my son, "I like that movie." God willing, one day my son will share
Christmas memories with his children. They'll include me the way my memories include my
mother. His sweetest Christmas memories will include his father too.
My son's father and I divorced nearly four years ago. It was then that I decided to remain
away from the very people who helped spin marvelous events into my life on Christmas Day
- so my son could grow up with both of his parents the way I grew up with both of my
parents. It was awkward just thinking about that first Christmas my ex-husband and I were
going to share with our son. The thoughts that preceded the day were awkward; events from
that day weren't.
Weeks before December 25, we decided that "Dad" would buy the toys; "Mom" would go
shopping for clothes, shoes and outer winter wear. That Christmas Eve we didn't sit around
a lighted tree singing holiday songs the way my siblings and I did at my grandparents when
I was a little girl. We didn't spend the night watching holiday cartoons. We didn't sit at the
dining room table opening cards and laughing out loud at the funny ones. It wasn't the
same as it was when I was a child, but it was good. We made certain of that for our
child.
My son's father drove to my apartment in the wee hours of the morning, just before the sun
yawned in the sky. After I let him in, I returned to the comforts of my bed in my room down
the hall.
I woke to a house that looked like a long ago memory come into my own home. I lit the tree
and stared at the many gifts surrounding the tree. It wasn't long before our son hobbled out
of the bedroom. His mouth flew open. He quickened his stride. His eyes were bright and
large. Soon he was jumping. Smiling. Laughing. Tears filled his eyes. His father sat up on
the sofa where he spent the night. "Daddy! Daddy!" Then our four year-old son turned and
looked at me. "Mommy," he said hugging me at the knees. "It's Christmas!"
And so it was. And soon will be again. My son's father has remarried. He still comes to the
apartment at the wee hours of the morning. Now he drops the presents off and returns to
his home. The day never advances long before he returns to spend the holiday with his son
a little boy who adores Christmas as much as I did when I was a child.
Despite the trials your former spouse and you have experienced, if at all possible, arm your
child with precious memories. Oh. He or she may not grow up with truth banked in
Christmas at all, but the memories will forever be cherished. The memories will always be
sweeter than mistletoe, cold, wet icicles hanging from the edge of your house, virgin snow,
hot, buttered popcorn or the sound of sweet holiday music coming from the stereo while
cookies bake in the oven. Disallow hard feelings, disagreements and unmet hope to guide
you to allow your child's Christmas to be another day of "Mom and Dad couldn't get along".
Cover your child with gladness.
If your child spending the day with both parents is not possible or feasible, spend the day
free of belittling the other person who without whom your child would not be in the world.
The other person who helped you work with God to create a miracle your daughter or son.
A broken marriage does not have to be a broken home, a child's heart forever broken. I had
to swallow my pride that first Christmas. After five years my son spending the holiday (his
father is active in his life throughout the year) with both of his parents has become as
normal as a child growing up in a two-parent home.
Christmas. For those who choose to celebrate the day, why not make it one of the
sweetest holidays your child will know.
About the Author: Denise Turney has been writing for more than 25 years. She is the author of the books "Portia" and "Love Has Many Faces" (due out in March 2000). She is the editor of the newsletter, The Book Lovers Haven (a paying e-zine). She works full-time outside her home as an administrator. Her works have been published in magazines and newspapers around the country. She has appeared on various radio stations. She is the mother of a witty, happy and charming little boy named Gregory. Visit Chistell Publishing.
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