Will This Be a Christmas to Remember!

We tend to remember those things we wish to, or those dramatic things we cannot forget. Christmas is usually the former, especially for children. However, when we get older we dramatize in our minds those events that intrigued and excited us.

The 3 feet of snow on the ground in our memories was probably only about 2 feet and the snowdrifts not nearly as tall as our minds made them out to be. After all, I could see Daddy on the tractor coming down the road to pull us out of the drift we went into when we slid past the intersection just south of Grandma and Grandpa’s place.

I always liked seeing Daddy on the tractor, usually standing, so he could see things ahead of him. I guess Mom drove the car as Dad pulled us out, and then up to the house. I do not remember that, nor do I remember it being cold, just crisp looking, the snow sparkling in the sunlight with a bright blue sky.

I do not remember many toys received on any specific Christmas or who gave them. However, I do remember the clown-punching doll that had a red nose that squeaked when you hit it or squeezed it. The bottom had sand in it so it always stood up. They hid it behind the curtains in the south window of the living room. It may have even been my sister’s or perhaps a joint gift, I do not remember. I cannot even remember playing with it, just where it was at, what it felt like and that it was as tall as I was.

Those are the memories I have of past Christmases. They are few and scattered just remnants of my childhood, but dear to me because of the people and places.

I have often wondered about my Dad’s memories of Christmas, what was important to him. What kind of toys he remembered getting or even if he remembered getting toys or things.

The coming Christmas is going to be, I am sure, one of the Christmases I remember for the rest of my life. My Dad was diagnosed with cancer and this could be the last Christmas with him. Could be, I pray it is not. None of us knows when our lives will end or how.

I will always remember my Dad on that bright winter day, coming down the country road on the tractor to rescue my Mom, sister and I. He is my Hero in so many ways.

Now I as an adult can look back at, remember and love my Dad in that child like way all over again.

Will this be a Christmas to remember? You bet it will be!


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