totally_tiffany (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} totally_tiffany) wrote,@ 2007-11-24 07:35:00 |
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Favorite Christmas Memory
Lots of lights, decorations, food and family all around. Doesn't seem like it would all be so fascinating to a forty-four year old, but as a child my family's religion prohibited celebrating holidays. My youngest sister who is ten years younger than me didn't have her first Christmas until she was fourteen and then it was on. Since then we've always celebrated. Myself, not quite as elaborately as she does, because as a single parent of four it was a bit of a struggle.
Then, a couple of years ago, with four, almost, grown children and four grandchildren, two at four years and two at two years of age, all decided to come to my house for Christmas dinner.
There had been talk of taking the grandchildren to the mall, community center, churches, anywhere to have their pictures made with Santa. One daughter-in-law just couldn't stand to wait in the long lines with her two and the other daughter-in-law had to work all the times Santa would be available.
So, what to do? Have Santa come to them. I fancied myself a photographer at the time so I had all the equipment, lights, backdrop, professional camera and had it all set up when they got there.
One funny moment of the night was that two of my son's thought they had it all figured out. But the shock was evident on their faces when the person they thought might "play" Santa strolled in behind "Santa".
One of the highlights was my four year old granddaughter looking up with eyes as big as sugarplums and saying with reverential awe "I didn't ever know you knew Santa Claus". There was tears of joy in the wide-eyed expressions of the twenty and twenty-three year old daughter-in-laws and much laughter as both of them, as well as my "Santa isn't cool" sixteen year old daughter clambered into the ample lap of Santa whispering in his ear their wishes as if they were only four years old themselves.
The rest of the night passed in a flurry of gifts and joy and at the end my twenty five year old son kind of sheepishly whispered to me, "Well, it isn't like it was really Santa---was it?
I guess they will never really know, will they?
Lots of lights, decorations, food and family all around. Doesn't seem like it would all be so fascinating to a forty-four year old, but as a child my family's religion prohibited celebrating holidays. My youngest sister who is ten years younger than me didn't have her first Christmas until she was fourteen and then it was on. Since then we've always celebrated. Myself, not quite as elaborately as she does, because as a single parent of four it was a bit of a struggle.
Then, a couple of years ago, with four, almost, grown children and four grandchildren, two at four years and two at two years of age, all decided to come to my house for Christmas dinner.
There had been talk of taking the grandchildren to the mall, community center, churches, anywhere to have their pictures made with Santa. One daughter-in-law just couldn't stand to wait in the long lines with her two and the other daughter-in-law had to work all the times Santa would be available.
So, what to do? Have Santa come to them. I fancied myself a photographer at the time so I had all the equipment, lights, backdrop, professional camera and had it all set up when they got there.
One funny moment of the night was that two of my son's thought they had it all figured out. But the shock was evident on their faces when the person they thought might "play" Santa strolled in behind "Santa".
One of the highlights was my four year old granddaughter looking up with eyes as big as sugarplums and saying with reverential awe "I didn't ever know you knew Santa Claus". There was tears of joy in the wide-eyed expressions of the twenty and twenty-three year old daughter-in-laws and much laughter as both of them, as well as my "Santa isn't cool" sixteen year old daughter clambered into the ample lap of Santa whispering in his ear their wishes as if they were only four years old themselves.
The rest of the night passed in a flurry of gifts and joy and at the end my twenty five year old son kind of sheepishly whispered to me, "Well, it isn't like it was really Santa---was it?
I guess they will never really know, will they?
