Ghosts of Christmas Past

I’ve mentioned before, Gentle Reader, a little family tradition of ours at Christmastime: it involves a few cocktails, some Christmas songs, and having one’s heartstrings tugged so much that one eventually cries in honor of those no longer with us. It’s very cathartic and sentimental and not at all as awful as it sounds. The point is that it inspired me to dig through the actual photo albums in search of some ancient artifacts. After all, it’s not just Christmas today – it’s also #ThrowbackThursday.

Dad and I NintendoI was five when my folks got me a Nintendo Entertainment System for Christmas. I was fascinated; I’d never even heard of video games. My Dad, who’d been an avid hunter for years,  was very taken with Duck Hunt, as seen above. My grandfather wasn’t too sure about this newfangled claptrap.

Grandpa Video Game

The very next day, Grandpa went out and got an NES of his very own. He was obsessed with Mario for the next twenty years.

My Grandma always encouraged my creativity. She was always willing to get down on the floor to play with me, to draw, to sing, to imagine – every Christmas, there’d be books, building sets, art supplies – anything to get inspiration flowing. Seen here, she’s wearing a paper wreath we’d just made together, and playing the keyboard.

Grandma Keyboard

Please note the upright piano in the background.

So those were Christmas mornings. Christmas eves, on the other hand, were at Maman’s parent’s house, and it was packed with relations – the sort of scene you see in Christmas movies.

Nanny Two

Nanny and Poppo would sit in their chairs, presiding over in-laws, cousins, brothers and sisters, their children and grandchildren.

Nanny and Poppo
My father teased Nanny unmercifully for years – despite the hours she spent in the kitchen fixing dinner, baking buns from scratch, making lefse and making pies – Dad always very vocally mourned the lack of mincemeat pie. Year after year – “No, thanks, Thelma –  Mincemeat’s the only pie I’ll eat!” – until she’d had enough. That year, the mincemeat had a healthy helping of crow.

Mincemeat

She made him eat the whole thing by himself.

When everyone was leaving for the night, Nanny would always wave Maman over to her chair and whisper “Stay for just one more!” We always did.  Even at a young age, it was apparent that I was… fancier than the other boys –

Dad and I
-and as Nanny got older, Maman took over the bulk of the kitchen work, and I took over after-dinner cigarettes and drinks while Nanny told me salacious family gossip. I learned at her knee that it’s nice to decompress after a party by going over how things went down, and it’s a lesson I’ve never forgotten.

We’ve seen very little of Maman through these photos, and that’s because she’s been behind the camera in every one of them. She’s the one who’s done her damnedest to keep both sides of the family together – she’s the one who’s kept in touch, sent invitations and cards, mended fences, held us together and made things right. My mother, Carolyn, is the soul and center of our remarkable clan. This one’s for you, Ma.

Maman and I

Merry Christmas, Gentle Reader, if you celebrate it. If you don’t, Happy Holidays anyway. May your days be merry and bright, my friend.

Advertisements

About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
This entry was posted in Adventures, Drama, Musings and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Ghosts of Christmas Past

  1. deenietot says:

    Yay! I love your holiday memories (at least the ones you chose to post). 😀

  2. lafcady says:

    Merry Christmas to you! I don’t celebrate but I hope your holiday bring you everything you’d wish for.

Have something to say, darling? Don't be shy!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s