Mom worked on the sparkly details, while Dad took the job of
lighting up the house, both inside and out.
My favorite job as his helper was to go through all of the
light strings for the tree, inspecting every bulb and replacing as needed. In
those days you could revive a dead string with the repositioning of a wire,
planting a fresh bulb, or by splicing a new plug onto the cord. Nowadays
I grumble as my early-learned skills are ineffective on the throw-away cheap
light strings manufactured to be replaced, not repaired. I relish
the memories of the hours spent picking through the bag of bulbs and the
nuggets of wisdom I received from my Pa.
Once he had the ropes of incandescent outdoor bulbs placed
along the gutters and around the front door, my sisters and I would make toast
by smooshing crust-less white bread into “dough” to wrap around a relatively
clean colored bulb. The heat of those old-fashioned C9 bulbs cooked
the bread into a crispy little shell in a matter of minutes. Making
them was the point, but we ate the warm, sometimes gritty treats too.
When I was really little, Dad spent the late weekends of November chopping yule logs
for every friend and aquaintance for miles around. Glitter was added
to spark colorful flames, along with the traditional berries and greens. Come
Christmas Eve we would drive around the neighborhood and plop the decorated
hunks of wood on porches with a hearty “Merry Christmas!!”
Every fall our entire family became a Christmas Card
Workshop. You see, my dad is an artist and has painted beautiful
things his whole life. For a few weeks each year we would spend our
Saturday and Sunday afternoons painting individual, original Christmas cards
for everyone we ever knew. Dad pulled out his water color tubes and
pallets and we learned about color mixing and how water interacted with the
pigment. We had some examples to follow, but we were free to embrace
our own creative impulses. We painted and sent at least a hundred,
if not more, very original and often extremely rustic cards every year. After
we child-labor elves grew older and busier, Dad printed his original cards at
the family print shop and hand painted each card before Mom added a personal
note and affixed the festive stamp. I have saved them all.
Dad’s holiday music library is unrivaled. From
Johnny Cash to Elvis to Vince Guaraldi to the Nutcracker Suite, we had all the genres
covered. Not to mention Alice’s Restaurant was considered a MUST LISTEN
during this time of year. Holiday music would play for hours on end
with never a repeated song.
Every single year, from the first of six children to the
last of many, many grandchildren, Dad spent the last minutes of every Christmas
Eve sitting beneath the sparkling tree surrounded by young’uns while reading
aloud from The Night Before Christmas by Clement C Moore. As he
closed the tattered hard-bound book, we were enchanted, excited and ready to
run off to bed in anticipation of Christmas magic.
This Christmas, as the more recent years have foreshadowed,
our Papa is slipping far into dementia. When I am able to make the
trek over the mountains for a visit, otherwise quiet he announces, “That
girl is here again!” At other times he asks Mom repeatedly, “When
was Christmas this year?” noticing the decorated tree and colorful lights
surrounding the house, but not sure if the holiday is coming or going. He
then retires to his room to watch Jeopardy and fall into the comfortable, yet
confusing routine of his new life.
He may not engage in the season like he used to, but the
holiday magic he created for decades has passed on to a few generations of
Stones and to others beyond our family. Each December when the task
awaits, I always look into my inner Puk (his family nickname) when I decorate
and embrace the beauty and music of the season. I am so grateful for
that.
This winter I can’t help but feel the great weight of
melancholy, as I no longer know how to connect with my incredible father whose
gifts have gone silent - or so it seems. I will do my best to carry
on his lessons, and to continue to pass them on to my family.
Happy Christmas to All…and to all a Good Night!
