Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Christmas 1975

Granny, my brother and me

I'll always remember the Christmas of 1975. We lived in Durham, North Carolina. My brother graduated from high school that spring and decided to enlist in the Air Force. It was so strange when he left that September. My Dad told me years later that after he dropped my brother at the airport, the song, "When will I see you again" came on the radio and he cried the whole way home. Now I always cry when I hear that song, because I picture my Dad crying to it. We were all very excited to have him back for Christmas. Of course, things never quite work out how you imagine. After all those months in military training, he had one goal in mind - reconnecting with his old girlfriend. I don't remember any drama, but after my Dad died, I found a letter from my brother regarding the Christmas visit and apparently my parents were quite miffed (hurt?) that he was far more interested in scoring than having "family time." I, myself, was quite wrapped up with my boyfriend at the time. It was ninth grade and we spent a lot of time together. He even gave me his old bowling ball so I could bowl in a league with him on Saturday mornings. I still bowl with that ball, although I have had it re-drilled for my adult fingers. If you look very closely you can find his initials on that ball.
~
That Christmas eve, everyone had their own plans. My parents had a party, my brother had his date and I was going to spend the evening with my boyfriend and his parents as they "relative hopped." I'll never forget how surprised I was that there was a little gift for me at every house! I had never met these people! But that was the way of The Old South. I think I got a wallet, a scarf, some gloves and a little bracelet. The big gift, of course, was from my boyfriend. He gave me a gold signet ring with a monogram of my last name initial. For some reason that always bothered me. I wanted my first name initial on the ring. But I was just thrilled that a boy gave me A RING! I kept that ring for years. I had a good time visiting all of his people and there was great food and snacks everywhere. We kept a rather late night, and I remember being a little nervous on the ride home thinking my parents might be mad. I think I got home around 11:30. And I was only 14.
~
I unlocked the door, and walked in - AND NO ONE WAS THERE! We lived in a townhouse apartment where you parked in back and I was dropped off at the front door, so I was very surprised that I was the first one home. I put on a Christmas album and sat by the tree. About a half hour later, my brother showed up. Like me, he couldn't believe we had beat our parents home. We looked at the tree together reminiscing about Christmases past. We talked about our evenings, he talked about his military friends, we even did that whole thing where you lie on your back with your head under the tree and look up at the lights. Finally, around 1:00 a.m. our parents showed up. We all chatted again about our nights, I showed off my gifts and then we went to bed. I called my boyfriend and we talked on the phone until about 5:00.
~
On Christmas morning, my Dad drove to Goldsboro to pick up his Mom (My Granny that I adored). I don't remember a lot about that day because I didn't get much sleep, but I look pretty happy in the picture. What I really remember is that night, Christmas eve, and thinking how everything was different now. My brother and I were growing up and I knew Christmas would never be the same again. And I was right. My parents separated that next spring, so we never had another family Christmas. That was our last family Christmas. The Christmas of 1975.

13 comments:

OldLady Of The Hills said...

Memories! Poignant and Sweet, and painful, too! It sounded like an idylac Christmas....!

The Shredder People??? OY! They didn't show!!!! UGH UGH UGH....Scheduled again for Today....a DIFFERENT company....
Nothing is easy, is it?
I pray these people show up!
Stay tuned.....(lol)

Jazz said...

we even did that whole thing where you lie on your back with your head under the tree and look up at the lights

Damn, I never ever thought to try that. That's the first thing I'm gonna do when I light the tree Saturday.

Second thing is I'll try to convince Mr. Jazz to get under there with me.

GW said...

Dr. John sent me today. Your writing pulled me right into your story of that bittersweet Christmas in your life; you have a gift.

Dave said...

Old family memories remain a part of us like woodgrain of a tree. Memories which make us smile... Gives us another reason for living and loving! I really enjoyed your post!

Take care!

Ian Lidster said...

Loved the picture and your reminiscence. The photo is very Ladies Home Journal.

geewits said...

Naomi,
~~It's certainly a Christmas I will always remember. Good luck with the shredders!

Jazz,
~~I always thought all little kids did that!

Gardenwife,
~~Well thanks. I don't consider myself a writer. I'm just a blogger.

Dave,
~~Thanks. It was nice to see you here again!

Ian
~~That picture was so washed out! I had to run about 5 different filters on it. I should have taken the time to give myself better hair, but hey it WAS 1975.

Jo said...

Oh, what a lovely story! You know Christmas of 1975 was our last family Christmas together as well. My Dad died nine months later, and nothing was ever the same again.

I thought I was the only one to lie underneath a tree and look at the lights. I thought I invented that! Heh.

geewits said...

Josie,
~~Once again we have that odd synchronicity. That's hilarious that you thought you invented it. We probably thought that, too

Scarlet said...

This was such a beautifully written post. It brought tears to my eyes (and very few people can do that to me these days!). Thanks for sharing a part of yourself with us.

Tai said...

That was a beautifully written post, thoughtful, happy and sad.
Lovely Gee, just lovely and bittersweet.

geewits said...

Scarlet,
~~Thanks. That was sweet of you to say. Atleast I didn't bleed on you. ;)

Tai,
~~Thanks. There are so many firsts and lasts in our life, aren't there?

Jammie J. said...

This was beautiful and poignant. It's amazing how much can change in a year, isn't it?

geewits said...

Jammie,
~~Thanks. A year. Yes. That was one strange year.