Family at Christmas

I hadn't really realized how old I am. My dad turned 70-something yesterday, my mother is 5 years older, 3 of my 4 grandparents are gone, my sister has a grandchild, and my own son is old enough to have a deep voice. Somewhere along the line, we got old.

When we were kids, Mother, Dad, my older Sis and younger Sis - we five would go to the Grandparents for Holidays. It's so long ago, I can't remember what order they went in, but ...

Mother's parents. They're both gone.

Pap-pa died many years ago from Parkinson's. He smelled of smoke and old, and his hands shook the last several years. He was a quiet man, and took good care of his family. I loved him so much.

Nana (nanny) was really the rock of the family. She made a great cheeseball, filled her home with plants, crocheted almost every day, and was ready with a strong hug. So small of a woman, so immense with love. She always made a lemon cake - we kidded her that leftovers were put away until the next special occasion. She made brandied fruit, sewed my wedding dress and quilts, crocheted afghans and pillows. That side of the family pretty much fell apart after she died. I was inconsolable for weeks after her death.

Dad's parents: One of two are gone.

Grandfather was kinda like Pap-pa - strong and somewhat quiet. At least, that's what I remember. Grandmother is of strong will and voice, meticulous and powerful. Grandfather passed when my son was just a baby. Grandmother is still alive, but she doesn't hold much for family any more. Still, I miss her.

I miss them.

Actually, I miss all of our family, and the memories of my youth. Hanging the stockings by the fireplace - made by Mother for each of us girls. Dad smoking his pipe in the living room (I can still smell it). Cookies and fruitcake. Baking goodies. Decorating the tree and the house. Special ceramics Mother made and brought back out each year. The three sisters hunting for and finding our presents (most years). Playing Clue and Easy-Bake-Oven, and watching Christmas TV specials (hiding my eyes from the abominable snowman). Burning the wrapping paper in a roaring fire. Reading the books of Christmas stories that only saw the light of day once a year.

Happy Holidays, Family.