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The memories make Christmas (Eve) all the more special

December 22, 2003 ~ 3:52 p.m.

Christmas, Christmas time is here,

Time for fun and time for cheer

Oh yeah, Christmas. There�s only so much about Christmas that I can take. The whole commercialization of the holiday grates on my nerves. The expectation that I should show more humility and grace toward my fellow humans at this time of year only encourages me to act grouchier. I really don�t have the patience for it.

Mind you, I�ve always liked Christmas Eve, and I have good memories. The one I am most fond of is from 1994:

I had graduated from college earlier that year, in September, and I had spent the last few months temping while I looked for a steady job. The place I was filling in at let us out at 12 noon on the 24th.

It was snowing when I got out and about four inches already carpeted the sidewalks. Plows were doing their best to keep the streets clear, but this being downtown Boston, all the cars had pretty much kept the accumulation under control. Nevertheless, traffic was tight and it took an extra twenty minutes to commute home.

When I got home, the first thing I remember seeing was a bowl of oranges on the kitchen counter. Then I noticed pine-scented candles and fancy decorations of all sorts. An animated dove swung from the parlor light fixture. We had company coming later that night and Mom was busy fixing the house up in grand fashion.

I fixed myself a cup of egg nog and my sister and I helped Mom to prepare. I made sure the refrigerator in the cellar was stocked with plenty of soda. I had a Lisa Loeb tune torturing my brain, so I chilled out to some music. When it grew dark, I went back downstairs and company started arriving.

In addition to Mom, Dad and my sister, my grandmother, aunts and uncles, and other various relatives were there. And my cousin, Duane. I usually only saw him once a year and that was during Christmas Eve. This year, it was no different. My sister and I both feel that Duane missed his calling as a comedian. He made us laugh especially hard that year.

Later, after snacks, everybody went from the kitchen to the living room and accompanied by the crackling of the firewood, we played that game from the film Scrooge called �The Minister�s Cat.� Duane was first and, don�t you just know it, he kicked it off with, �The minister�s cat is an alcoholic cat.� I won�t even tell you what word he chose when his turn came around again and he was assigned the letter F. Poor Grandma was scandalized; but she also laughed the hardest.

There were other fun Christmas Eves as well, but for some reason, 1994 was special. There was a certain feeling to it, that we had reached a standard of excellence in family entertainment and true Christmas spirit that would be hard to follow up.

And follow up we never really did.

I am never likely to be home on Christmas Eve again as I have my own family in England that I share it with, and we have our own good time. But on the 26th, as I fly home, a little magic will be captured once again�and the only relevant point that I take from those memories as it applies to today is this: I have one hell of a family. I see them all again Friday afternoon.

And I can�t wait.

� M.E.M.

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