When we decided the theme for this year鈥檚 Wilkie Unity Press-Herald Christmas issue was going to be 鈥淔irst Christmas鈥� my mind raced with topics I could write about. As my thoughts jumped with vivid memories of 鈥淔irst Christmas鈥� experiences that encompassed a number of different emotions and years.
A first Christmas in our newly-built house on the farm, with extended family numbering 17 celebrating together, is a fabulous memory to recall. My mom was always the ultimate host and took great pride in her decorating and baking, with extra detail given to many moments of playing Christmas host.
She sewed 17 patchwork stockings to be hung on the mantel. That year all the 鈥渒ids鈥� were in their teens, the theme was no longer a gift exchange but 鈥渟tuffing鈥� each other鈥檚 stockings and what great entertainment it provided. She made sure dad had cut plenty of firewood to keep both main floor fireplaces going to add to the ambience of the Christmas experience in that new house.
Our family loved to play games, so Mom had us assist in the game planning, ensuring that every generation of participant would have some fun.
The assortment of baking was created for a few weeks prior, not to be touched by us as we watched it get assorted into freezer containers until everyone arrived.
The Christmas meal was the first time that I can remember not including a 鈥渃hildren鈥檚鈥� table, as her large, new kitchen enabled her to set up a length of tables that would seat everyone comfortably. And a memorable meal it was, including mischievous teenagers wagering to see how long it would take a favourite dish to make its way around that long table.
This was before VCRs, mobile phones and 24/7 satellite television. Teenagers actually found ways to entertain themselves inside and out. I recall plenty of laughter and time flying by quickly.
As the company all departed, the sentimental melancholy set in, however it remains one of many fond Christmas memories I have and can also be added to one of the chapters in my life鈥檚 book, under the title 鈥淔irst Christmas鈥�
A first Christmas that was non-traditional can be described as unique. People today are used to getting all of our highway hotline information via tweet, text, Facebook or looking on the computer. When we were first married, my husband had a summer job and a winter job with highways. In the winter his job included sitting in a small office, manning the Highway Hotline phone. His shift included Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, if it was his turn.
Besides managing updates with all media sources, he fielded incoming update calls from snowplow operators who were out treating the roads, as well as callers who were travelling and wanted to know the conditions ahead of them. This was no lonely 鈥淢aytag Man鈥� job, as that phone rang frequently. But, not wanting the poor man to spend Christmas alone, I did my best at creating a feast for two and would head into this office and spend several hours with him while playing endless hands of cribbage between callers.
There wasn鈥檛 a Christmas tree in our midst, or the sights and sounds of a house full of company enjoying the festivities around us, but we both recognized, while it wasn鈥檛 the Christmas anyone had wanted, neither of us were alone and we could make the best of it together.
Even though there have been many Christmases since then that the Highways job has kept him away from home Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, that 鈥渇irst Christmas鈥� experience in that little office wishing strangers a Merry Christmas and safe travels while taking turns beating each other in cribbage is certainly another experience I can add to the memory bank under the 鈥渇irst Christmas鈥� category.
A first Christmas after a child has left home definitely rings true to the theme. I can recall easily the first Christmas I returned home after heading to college. It was as exciting to see your family and what had changed around home as it was to reunite with many other friends who had also left home after graduation.
I reminded myself of these feelings when we were welcoming our daughter home for her first Christmas home from university. We were excitedly preparing our house with all her favourite decorations and foods as well as planning out Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. She arrived home a week or so early as her hectic exam schedule at university was done and she was eager to have some down time. And, even though I had experienced this myself as a young person, the continual call of friends who were also anxious to see her left me feeling as though I was being deprived of her time. Yet we kept encouraging her to see everyone she could while she was at home, inviting them to come to our house, so we could also reconnect with these kids, too.
Long study hours, longer nights reminiscing with former classmates caught up with the poor girl and again we selfishly felt deprived of her time as she caught up on sleep. Yet, what we did notice and appreciate, at meal time or TV time, she was phone free 鈥� wanting to 鈥渂e in the room, when she was in the room.鈥�
The messy room that used to drive us crazy when she lived here was now a welcome sight as that meant, for the time being, her room wasn鈥檛 empty. Another willing hand in the kitchen with preparation or clean up just so she could catch up with me, was one of those heartwarming moments that brought back floods of memories of me doing the very same activity with my mom after I had left home.
Traditions we thought she may have grown out of were now welcome and almost exciting as it offered a taste of the past and the familiar. We reveled in all the little things, with her wanting to savour each moment as we knew all too soon she would be headed back to the city to kick start her new school year as well as reconnect with the new friends there.
Sentimental melancholy that sets in after every anticipated holiday or event, leaves us feeling a little sad and a little forlorn. Until that happy voice tells us she made it home safely and hearing the excitement in her plans in her new home in the upcoming weeks, cheers us up.
This 鈥渇irst Christmas鈥� chapter has yet another tale to add.
It doesn鈥檛 matter what your theme or chapter is about, a first Christmas experience or the most recent Christmas experience, none of these experiences mean any more or any less. What is important are the feelings they have evoked, the memories they gave us and the stories we are able to recall about these Christmases, no matter what chapter they fall under in your life鈥檚 book of stories. You see Christmas is not just a date, but a state of mind.
鈥淟ike snowflakes, my Christmas memories gather and dance, each beautiful, unique and too soon gone.鈥� 鈥� Deborah Whipp
