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.
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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.
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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.
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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.