All of my regular readers know that I am Mr. Nostalgia. This year with Christmas fast approaching, I have been trying to think back to my youthful Christmas mornings. I draw mostly a blank. I remember going to my siblings’ houses on Christmas morning. I can recall a special present or two or three that I received over my childhood days. I don’t remember our Christmas trees, except for getting them at the Shell gas station on Walnut Street in Slatington. Here is what my mind keeps going back to, a Christmas ornament. One particular ornament.
It was a Christmas tree ball, so big it always had to hang on a thick lower branch. It was bluish purple, not particularly beautiful. It was as big as a grapefruit! Not the grapefruits in the stores today, but the big fat juicy grapefruits we knew as children. I am pretty sure this ball had been in our family for generations. Maybe it came from my family that grew up in the coal regions, hence the dark color almost like coal. I wonder whatever happened to this ball. I wonder why it’s one of the only things I remember about boyhood Christmas mornings.
I may have discovered the answer. This decoration was big and dark and heavy. That may be an overarching theme of Christmas for me. My mom died on Christmas Day, when I was fifteen. My dad died the day after Christmas, when I was thirty-one. Today, the joy of the holiday comes in flashes. I can hear a Christmas carol and smile. I can see kids lined up to see Santa and feel happy for them. I can revel in delight, seeing my family open presents. But, hanging on a lower branch of my mind is that big, dark, heavy, and fragile ball. It’s been there since, Christmas, 1967.
Wishing all of you the happiest holiday seasons, whichever holiday you celebrate, or even if you celebrate none.
A Semi-retired Kind of Life 