Christmas Memories

Here we are at Christmas weekend – Merry Christmas! Looking back over 2023 it seems that the year went by in the blink of an eye. Time doesn’t move any faster; we are more aware of how quickly life goes by.

I know that for some of you Christmas brings more pain than joy. It’s a day to get through. Even though I am surrounded by people who love me, I still miss those who are not. There is always something that could be better – more money, more time, more, more, more.

As a child, Christmas is all about opening presents on Christmas morning (or Eve). In adulthood, physical gifts become less important and we long for emotional things. For our relationships to be better, to be closer to loved ones who live far away, better health, etc.

Many loved ones are recovering from surgery this Christmas. Others will be alone, and some who even feel unloved and forgotten. If I had the ability, I would wish to wrap my arms around them. For them to feel love, peace, and acceptance flow through me into their spirits. 

Recently, a close friend and I were talking about Christmas memories. She asked me if there was a specific time that stood out in my mind. Naturally, many memories flooded my mind – how to pinpoint just one?

Here are two. The first is from a child’s viewpoint of Christmas. The second is from someone entering her senior years. I think both sum up the meaning of Christmas.

When I was around ten or eleven, my cousins lived in Jackson, about two hours away. They had sent Christmas gifts to go under our tree because they were not driving home that year. Mother placed the gifts around the tree, and I immediately began looking for one with my name on the tag.

My search was quick, and I began to feel the package. I shook it. Nothing moved or rattled. Then with my fingers, I began to feel around the edges. It had the most unusual feeling. What could it be?  

Each day after school, while Momma was busy in the kitchen, I’d sneak into the living room and feel that package. After two or three days of trying to figure out what it was, I decided that I would see if the scotch tape could be lifted without tearing the paper.

It took a whole week of gently prying up a piece of tape on one end of that package. At last, there was a large enough gap for me to see that it was a stack of books. Large books stacked in opposite directions. This was why the edges felt so odd.

Even at ten I was in love with books, so yes, this was great! I could not tell what the books were without ripping the paper, so I finally allowed the poor package to rest. The fact that I had mastered that tape and solved the mystery was rewarding enough.

On Christmas morning, as everyone was ripping their way through piles of presents, Momma handed me the package from my cousins. Smiling smugly to myself, I tore the paper away to discover it was a set of The Wonderful World of Walt Disney. 

A four-volume set. The bindings were green, blue, yellow and red. The green was on nature. The red was Fantasyland – my favorite. The yellow was on other lands, and the blue was all about America. I still have these, and they have been much loved.

But on that Christmas, I looked through the titles, smiled and laid them next to me. On to the next box with my name on it. I overhead Momma later in the day telling someone how surprised she was that I did not act excited over my books. I’m sure they were expensive at the time. 

She never knew of my week of sleuthing. Isn’t that like a child? Rushing to grab the golden egg? Never taking the time to savor it before rushing to grab the next?

The second story was from Christmas 2010. After months of trying to figure out why I was not feeling great, it was discovered that I had a very large tumor on my right ovary.

Surgery was set for December 20. Another Christmas recovering from something – not my first ride in that rodeo. The tumor was removed, and it was indeed cancer. Again. The only thing was that they would not know until the pathology report came back if it had spread.

I was home lying in bed on Christmas Eve when Caston came into the bedroom holding the phone. I will never forget the look on his face. It was pure joy. He handed me the phone and told me that Dr. Williams was on the line. I remember thinking, here it is. Will it be a yes or a no. Please, God, let it be no.

I said hello. She said and I quote, “Tracey, I could not let you go through Christmas without knowing that the report shows the cancer was completely contained within the tumor. All the lymph nodes are clear! This was an aggressive cancer, and I rarely get to see this, but we got all of it.”

By the time we hung up all three of us were crying. It was the best Christmas I’ve ever had. There was no package to unwrap and gush over, only the knowledge that all the cancer had been removed. 

That night at our church, a group of musicians was performing a Christmas Eve program of jazz. Our dear friend Roy was one of those musicians and I told Caston to help me get dressed – we were going. He immediately told me all the reasons this was not a good idea. I had a very large incision, was having pain, etc. etc. I could not have cared less. I was going to that concert because I was in the midst of experiencing Christmas.

I will never forget that Christmas Eve for as long as I live. Our friends and pastor could not believe I was attending, but when I explained, they encircled me in their arms and wept with us.

Two very different memories, but both held close in heart. The joy of a child holding a mysterious gift with their name on it, and the actual gift of life. That my friends, is the very essence of Christmas. LOVE. JOY. PEACE.

Wishing you all these this weekend. Regardless of your situation, please know there is love, joy, and peace with you, and something yet to be unwrapped in the new year ahead.