Yuletide Musings

Today the snow has been falling and I cannot help but remember where I would be on any other year at this time. For the last 10 years, I have spent the week before Christmas at my Gram’s house. All of my fondest Holiday memories glow in my mind with her presence. Each year during my weeklong visit; she would share her Christmas stories with me. Gram had a story about everything and as each day drifts by since her passing I fret that I wont remember all of her tales. In these stories, our family is contained. Traditions, stories (gin) and memories make up the fabric of the Shullaws. Even without her physical presence, I hope to honor her and do the same things we have always done to carry on our family traditions. I want to share some of the stories that I remember her telling me each year.

When my Mom and Uncle were small, she and Grandpa would put together gifts and wrap presents (last minute of course because Gram was SUCH a procrastinator).  As they wrapped, they would open and drink an entire bottle of wine. Throughout the night, they would get drunker and drunker and they would laugh and carry on and have good time.  She always told me this story on the drive to my Parent’s house spoke of this time with such a warmth and fondness of the relationship she and Grandpa shared.

Grandma would sometimes speak of her Grandma and Grandpa Fitchen. She was very close to her Grandma. Her Grandpa Fitchen was a relatively wealthy but very thrifty man. He wouldn’t let her take a bath at his house due to the cost of heating the water for the tub (he was one of the few at the time who had running water). Once, he took Gram and her cousin shopping to buy them something for Christmas. The cousins wanted plaster Santa’s. He told them to pick out the one they wanted and Gram picked one where Santa had a wooden pipe (probably because her Dad smoked a pipe). When the cashier checked the price Gram’s was much more expensive then her cousin’s and Grandpa Fitchen was not pleased. But she convinced him to buy it for her anyways. I still have that Santa and his wooden pipe.

Grandma and her Mother had a relationship that had its ups and downs. But she always said what a giving and kind person her mother was to those in need. Gram’s parents were farmers and had little money of their own. But on Christmas, they would bring a basket of food to those who were disadvantaged. Gram told a story that when she was a young girl she and her mother went to a home of a poor family. The poor family consisted of a few children and a father because the mother had recently died. Gram and her Mom brought the basket the food into the kitchen of these disadvantaged people and saw that the kitchen was terribly dirty. Gram said that when she lifted a cup off of the shelf the only space that was clean was under the ring where the cup had been resting. My Gram and her mother cleaned the entire kitchen that Christmas Eve and did their best to make a nice Christmas for that family.

A more recent memory I have heard was they year that Grandpa added diamonds to Gram’s engagement ring and it was a complete surprise to her. When Grandpa was planning to propose he bought her the engagement ring and the jeweler had other diamonds that matched the stone in the ring. Grandpa didn’t have the money to buy them all at that time, but the jeweler said he would save the stones for Grandpa to use later. Sure enough many, many years later Grandpa went back to that same jeweler and used the matching stones to add to her engagement ring. Before he had them added on he told her that he was going to get the engagement ring’s stone checked at the jewelers. On Christmas day, he surprised her with the ring with all the new diamonds. She was flabbergasted and remembered it as one of her most precious Christmas gifts.

Having a person like Grandma to share our Christmas with was a gift. None of us will forget her perfectly wrapped chocolate fudge that was presented to each male of the family. It seemed to be a transition into manhood or an acceptance into the Shullaw clan.  We will not forget how she examined and fussed over each gift she or anyone else received taking a near lifetime to scrutinize it. I can just remember her happily sitting on the couch, her feet inches from touching the floor because she was so short. She sat watching attentively while each of us opened our gifts getting such joy out of the experience. Her patience when stirring the gravy was something to behold. That hot tedious process of stirring something that starts as a sludge that she could morph into a delicious outcome of smooth, creamy gravy.

Each Christmas, a part of me will always ache to have Gram with me with her sparkling dark eyes, her belly laugh and her kind smile. I hope I can find comfort in carrying on some of her traditions of joy, kindness and wonder each and every year. I miss you Gram and hope even though our family is apart you are with us all this Christmas.