My Christmases are centered around Christ. It is much like every Christmas, and we share gifts, decorate the tree and have big meals. When I was younger, my brother and I had to go downstairs in the basement until my parents were ready to recieve us. We never were told about Santa giving gifts, because that was contrary to what the Bible said. We always knew that our parents prepared the gifts, and we let the gifts for loved ones collect under the tree. Our gifts were wrapped by mom and dad on Christmas Eve night, and instead of hurrying to bed in anticipation of Santa, as a little girl, I hurried because the sooner we were out of sight, the sooner the wrapping began in the dining room.
I think my most favorite part of Christmas growing up was Christmas Eve night; I loved hearing mom and dad folding paper, talking about the business, discussing the hours of effort to come. I loved hearing them listen to faint Christmas music. I loved picturing them together in the dining room preparing to bless me and my brother. I'd be all tucked in my blankets, listening and smiling. It made me realize how much us kids were loved. That, and daddy never really had a lot of time alone with mom because of work and illness, and this was always one of those days that they were able to focus on each other and spend quality time with each other.
In the morning, my brother and I would watch cartoons until our eyes stung and then when we couldn't wait any longer, we'd scurry upstairs, usually after Grandma Duke came over. We had to take turns opening gifts and we had to always show what we got and take a picture with each gift.
I always loved Christmas and still do, because my dad and I got to spend time together. It was hard for him to take me places, so holidays have always been special for that reason. Dad would joke with me and he'd always be feeling great and for one day, his heart seemed to stop giving him trouble. After presents were opened, I loved sitting on daddy's lap. I loved watching a movie with him in the afternoon and hiding against his calf at scary scenes (I jump at every little thing).
One thing I miss from my childhood Christmases is the big, fancy meal we'd have. My aunts, uncles and cousins would come over to have turkey or ham, bread rolls, punch, Grandma's dessert, cassaroles or lasangua. There'd be uncle Dick's amazing cookies, chocolates, meatballs, salad and some "adult drinks". When I was younger, my aunt Melanie would get down on the floor with me and play with me using my new toys. I miss that in a way, even though I'm much older. I loved the closeness, I guess. My dad and his step-brother, my Uncle Kevin, would talk about hunting our Kevin and Melanie's latest trip or Uncle Dick's experiences as an Episcopalian priest. I always liked the idea that my uncle was a Reverend. I guess I liked the sound of it. He was very accomplished in the church and was great at needle point and baking cookies. He and my dad were, and are, very smart and I always admired my Uncle Dick's intelligence and skill. I admired my dad for that too.
On Christmas Eve night, my mom would have us open one gift, which was by tradition, new pajamas. When we were first adopted, in the mid to late 90s, my dad used to set up a train under the base of our tree. We used to bake cookies together, and one year, my brother and I snuck down the hall and saw dad putting our gifts out, and we pretended that he was Santa, and told mom that we believed in Santa. She let us, knowing we were just playing.