Remembering

  I keep a desk calendar on my desktop, seems like that's the place for that, and turn the page to December. I wonder how many people keep a paper calendar at home anymore. I haven't seen anyone giving them away in a few years. That isn't to say they don't, but I don't think it is as popular or prevalent as in years past. I expect most people use electronic reminders these days. I get reminders on my computer even though I've never asked for them. Mostly a reminder to buy something I don't need. I understand I could set up a calendar on my computer and get my reminders that way, but I just like having the calendar in front of me. 

  After eleven months I was still surprised to turn the page and see December. Surprised that it has arrived so soon. December 2023 when I was born in 1953. Doesn't feel like seventy years but the numbers don't lie. The numbers look like a lot more than they really are. It's like getting the electric bill, always seems like a lot. I do like seeing the observations, holidays and notes of interest in the blocks. 

 Hanukkah begins on the 7th this year. My thoughts go to all the Jewish folks and the current situation they find themselves in. I've always thought of Hanukkah as the Jewish Christmas. That isn't what is being celebrating however, but it is always associated with Christmas in my mind. I wish Happy Hanukkah to all those that celebrate. The 7th is also Pearl Harbor Day. A date that will live in infamy! It's a date I heard about from my parents, and a date I will never forget. It will live in infamy in my mind that much is certain. In today's world I don't believe that is the case. Even those that remember what happened on that date the infamy of that action is being forgotten or forgiven, depending upon your view. I will not forget.

  So, I get up and its' December. I check the calendar as I usually do. A couple of doctors' appointments to keep. The Greensboro Christmas parade is on the 9th and the ceremony for Wreaths Across America will be held on the 16th. I have my wreaths ordered, hope you did too. And then there is Christmas day. Christmas was the culmination of about three weeks of excitement, beginning when Santa Claus appeared at the end of the Macy's parade, but that isn't the case anymore. It has become more a sigh of relief. Not that the significance of the day, what we are celebrating is a burden in any way, it's just all the preparation. 

 I blame a great deal of that on all this starting so early, rushing the holidays. Seems like following Halloween it all becomes a blur. Santa Claus is pushing the turkey out of the way, ringing his bell for the Red kettle campaign, decorations crowd the shelves next to the, "on clearance" sales of candy, mums, corn stalks and everything else fall. The winter clothing has been on the rack for a few weeks already. It's a Santa blitz! My seventieth Christmas is certainly different than the ones in my childhood days. I don't mean just when I was little enough to believe in Santa Claus, not that childhood. I'm thinking about my childhood until I was 17. When I was eighteen, I wasn't home for Christmas, I was in the Navy. Ho, Ho, Ho. I would only be at my childhood home one more time for Christmas. I never saw that coming. 

  Well Christmas is the most sentimental of holidays. That's something you learn over time. It begins with confusion. When you are very small your parents hand you to this old guy dressed in funny clothes who is a bit of a close talker. It's scary and confusing. Later you're told to just ask that guy for whatever you want and one day of the year he will bring it to you. He flies around in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. You believe it. For a few years it seems to work, even when others are telling you it's a lie. Gradually you realize just what the deal is. Then you start getting socks, underwear and practical gifts. Eventually you are lucky to get one gift! But by then you have been taught it's the thought that counts. You remind yourself of that. But the memories remain and become what you enjoy the most. That becomes the gift. 

  I enjoy remembering the Christmas I got my Tonka trucks. The year I got a spider bicycle with the five-speed shifter and a cheater slick rear tire. I remember when my own children were small and the excitement they had. I was excited to give them those gifts, to see their reaction. Then the grandchildren came along, and I got to see that excitement once again. There really is nothing to compare the excitement of a small child on Christmas morning too. It is the simple innocence, the purity of emotion that touches us. It is truly magic. 

 Doesn't last long, it is an ephemeral thing. Just a moment in time that remains with us. Funny how that is. I can see those Tonka Trucks under that Christmas tree as plain as I can see this computer screen in front of me now. I can feel them, experience them. Santa didn't bring those trucks, they were a gift from my Aunt Betty and Uncle Doc. I don't remember anything Santa ever gave me. My spider bike was from Mom and Dad. I was 15 then and had a desire to be cool. I was cool! Last bicycle I ever owned. I don't want any of those things today, the memories are enough. It isn't the thought, so much as the memory. Yeah, I'm feeling especially sentimental this year. I don't need any reminders, I remember.