Ghost’s of christmas past

As far as Christmas memories go, most of mine are fond memories.  There are a few bad ones but for the most part, my Christmas memories revolve around quality family time.  My parents were divorced before I was old enough to remember them ever being together so I got to experience two different Christmas lifestyles.

My Christmas season started Thanksgiving night.  After a long day of cooking, eating and watching football, my entire family, on my father’s side, would pack into cars and head to downtown Atlanta and watch the lighting of Rich’s great tree.  That was before Macy’s took over and the tree lighting ceremony was held downtown at the Rich’s department store.  Thousands of people would pack the street and watch choirs sing in the elevated walkways that connected two buildings.  All awhile the huge tree stood on the roof, dark and shimmering.  It lit up when the last song was sang and that was how Christmas began for me each year.

Christmas with my father culminated on Christmas eve at my grandparents house.  The sights and sounds from those days still haunt me today.  But they haunt me in a good way. I remember the fire going in the big metal fireplace that wasn’t built into the wall and sort of looked like a space capsule.  My grandmother would have Christmas music playing.  The likes of Perry Como and Nat King Cole.  Their house was warm and shiny.  They loved to decorate.  All of the aunts, uncles, nieces and nephews were there and it was very special.

Christmas day was always spent with my mother.  This is where Santa made his stop, at mom’s house.  This is where I couldn’t fall asleep the night before. This is where all the magnificent toys were laid out by the tree.  Star Wars toys, G.I. Joe figures and electric race tracks and stockings full of candy and fruit are a few of the things that I remember freaking out over when I entered the living room on Christmas morning.  With lack of sleep and hours of playing with toys, Christmas afternoon was nap time.  Let’s face it.  Christmas for a kid is exhausting.

I know why I celebrate Christmas.  I understand that it’s the birthday of Christ and I am very much a believer.  But these ghosts of Christmas past had a part of who I am today.

Let’s remember the real reason we celebrate but not forget the memories being made.