I miss my Grandma. She's one of my favorite people ever. She grew up during The Great Depression, with 8 older siblings and a father that was blind, but must've had a great sense of humor. He'd do silly tricks like a magician to keep the kids entertained, and Grandma would replay them often for her grandkids. She told me stories of what a treat it was to get a piece of gum from her older sisters and how she only had 2 dresses as a girl. One dress was for daily playing during the week, and the other was nicer for Sunday church.
She married my grandpa at age 18, after graduating from Friends Bible Academy in Haviland, Kansas and went immediately into the ministry, pastoring churches around the midwest for all of their years together. She was the most lovely example of a pastor's wife, and dressed like a queen just to go out to the grocery store down the street. Curiously though, she talked more like a country girl than a city girl. She said things like "I reckon so" and "shore nuff", and she "worshed the clothes" instead of washed them. She called the days of the week "Sundy, Mondy, Tuesdy, Wedensdy, Thursdy, Fridy and Saturdie." I have no idea why.
Thinking of her brings up many traditions of Christmas' past. Every Christmas Eve she picked up the phone to call "Santy" (Wonder what she had against the letter "a"?) to make sure he was on his way! It was so exciting! I never noticed that while she was holding the receiver in one hand, she was also holding down the cut off button with the other. She told "Santy" her address and that all the kids were waiting, so hurry up and get the reindeer ready! It was magical that Grandma knew Santa personally! Just a few moments later and we'd hear jingle bells. Santa himself was at the door! He had a huge bag full of presents. Each year the anticipations became greater, knowing that Santa held the biggest, most desired gift of all. I was always so disappointed that my grandpa had missed Santa's big arrival! Why did he always have to go to the bathroom at the worst times???
I was probably 9 or 10 the year that my dear ol' dad played Santa, while sporting a big bushy 80's beard. Did I mention the beard was dark brown? I was at his side as he bent over to hand a present to a younger sibling or cousin and there it was! The secret revealed. I wasn't so much disappointed as shocked and surprised that my family could pull off such a major event year after year. Then I loved feeling a part of the mature crowd with the knowledge of how the whole thing went down. The "little kids" didn't have a clue!
Later I would find out that Grandma was the producer of this extravagant Christmas show, casting Santa each year by asking the chosen male family member with the sweetest smile, mixed with the subtlest hint of manipulation....which has now been adeptly passed down to my mom. (Love you, mom.)
By the time my college years came around and the youngest of the cousins were reaching middle school, Grandma still made sure that Santa came but his suit had seen better days. The year my Uncle Bob played Santa might be my favorite memory of all because all I can remember is that we laughed for days or weeks even. He bent over to get the toys out of the sack and the santa suit ripped right down his butt. The whole family belly-laughed for what seemed like hours. We laughed even harder the next year when the poor guy playing Santa came out with that famous rip....now in the front. (I can't remember if that was my brother or my boyfriend, Brad. Boyfriends weren't exempt from the Santa-casting tradition, by the way. Brad did it several years during college, probably more like a hazing ritual to be inducted into the family...but something tells me he was the first boy that asked Grandma if he could do it.) ;) And now you know why I married him.
Still to this day, Santa comes through whatever door we gather in, little eyes still aglow at the magic of the moment. Salmon soup is a post for another tradition, but the story there is still up for debate. The Christmas story is still read from Luke 2 before the presents are exchanged. Then the candy plate is passed filled with chocolate covered cherries, m&m's and peanut brittle. Stockings, once filled with oranges and apples, now line a room disguised as gift sacks filled with love....in memory of grandma and grandpa....in honor of their love for us....and in thankful blessedness for the heritage we all share.
