Every year about this time I find myself remembering and re-creating all my favorite Christmas traditions. With the help of family and friends I carefully keep cherished family memories alive and well for another year.
One of the most endearing traditions is the sending and receiving of Christmas cards. Happily we still get a lot of holiday mail from across the city and around the world. These cards contain greetings, best wishes and occasionally a newsy, upbeat letter.
Ahh, the Christmas letter. I don’t know who started this grand tradition but it has become a holiday cliché at our house sort of like gaudy Christmas sweaters or sloppy kisses from hairy aunts.
But I have to admit, when I read about the interesting and exciting lives of my friends and acquaintances I feel a little inadequate. I would like to send a Christmas letter of my own but I’m afraid I don’t lead a very interesting life. Compared to my jet-setter friends, my lifestyle is best described as Hillbilly Harrowsmith.
Still, even if we didn’t spend the winter in Bimini and our kids are not in the running for a Nobel Prize, it was still a very eventful year for us…I guess.
Our life may not be as glamorous as some but I’ve always tried to be a positive thinking, glass half-full, the best things in life are free, type of guy. I like to make the best of what’s around.
For example, after the furnace died last February we pretended we were vacationing high in the Swiss Alps for three months with no central heating. What an adventure!
It really brought the family closer as we huddled around the fireplace trying to keep warm. It was a little cold and uncomfortable but we never lost hope that some day our furnace man would come and we would be warm again.
As you can see from the enclosed Christmas photo, Grandma got a little close to the fire but we think her white hair was looking pretty ragged anyway. Besides, don’t you think it looks real handsome with those charred black streaks? Unfortunately her eyebrows never grew back and now she looks a little like a zombie.
The kids continue to be high achievers. The eldest became an activist and embraced the Occupy movement.
At least that’s what she said when she was caught in the camera department of a retail store at 3 a.m.
Funny thing though – the judge didn’t buy her story at all and now she will be spending the holidays occupying a jail cell for a few weeks. She is looking forward to turkey roll for Christmas dinner. We’re so proud of her for sticking to her principles.
Unfortunately her Christmas photo has a few numbers across the bottom but don’t you think she still has that mischievous little twinkle in her good eye?
Daughter number two (the one facing away from the camera) has discovered the true meaning of if you pick at it, it won’t heal. Poor thing – she spends a lot of time in the bathroom these days because of the antibiotics.
On the bright side, the little trooper has read many back issues of the Readers Digest during her stay in the can. Her word power is really increasing. Can you say necrotizing fasciitis? The doctors hope the infection will clear up in the New Year.
We have so much to be thankful for and we are sure the coming year will be even better. We are hoping to see all of our friends and neighbours over the holidays if we can get the court order and the quarantine lifted in time.
You gotta love the Christmas letter. I hope they never stop coming although I am a little nervous about all the e-greetings and Christmas tweets that are quickly replacing hand-written letters and face-to-face communication. If that happens, Christmas will be changed forever.
All the same, we will be looking for good cheer and Christmas miracles in the eyes of everyone we greet over the holidays.
We will welcome peace and happiness into our home and our dinner guests will taste the love in the good food and treats we serve.
And one more thing – we will keep checking the mailbox too, so keep those cards and letters coming.
Throw in your favourite family photo if you like. And if my letter isn’t quite as exciting as yours, forgive this hillbilly well-wisher.
Merry Christmas, friends.
