Christmas Traditions in our family – an addition to traditional history

The earliest Christmas I can recall as when I was about three years old. This was once again a conflict with my old nemesis the snake (psychologists take note). My late father was a whiz with his hands and he and the neighbor were building a "doll house" suite of furniture for his daughter for Christmas. I recall they were building a couch and chairs in green leather with coir stuffing. While they were busy I observed a snake coming down from the rafters in the garage. I attracted my dad's attention to this fact. The snake was dispatched very quickly. The conventional wisdom, at that time, dictated by the local aboriginal population (I hesitate to use the word native as this is no longer PC) was that you burn the creature which then drives the partners and friends away. In any event I recall burning the snake in a tin can.

This clearly had no impact.

In any event, no tinsel, no trees, no further memories, sorry guys.

The next Christmas memory was visiting Grandma. We took the train to a small town in the karoo called De Aar, emotions, feelings and empathy sound byte are in that hub. So I will not repeat them here.

My Christmas present was a complete set of matchbox cars, current and vintage. If I had kept this present, in pristine condition ( and I always kept my stuff in great condition) I would probably not have had to work today.

After that Christmases were some what vague until I became a little older. Grandma and Grandpa moved to Johannesburg after Grandpa went "on pension".

After this, Christmas was an obligatory visit. Now in SA like California ( I know it is not summer here just hot) and Ozz Christmas is in the middle of summer. So Turkey, Ham and Christmas pudding is somewhat of an ordeal. None-the-less born with great fortitude, the current girl friend (when I got a little older) was also always invited to the Christmas feast. Now Granny was a little outspoken. She would tackle my current paramour with the words "You know girl, you are not good enough for my grandson. You know we have blue blood in our arses and are special." I understand this was in reference to the fact that she claimed to be the grand daughter of George Rex of Knysna, who was reputed to be the illegitimate son of King George.II.

After their demise we developed a tradition of spending Christmas with my parents. Christmas began with a "decorating the tree ceremony" normally on or about December 16. We all had to assemble, decorate the tree with the saved decorations which aggregated year by year remember this one belonged to great baunt .. you get the picture) with additions from Christmas crackers or trivial gifts, given by attending parties over the years. This of course was always a subject of tears (if the giver had died in the meanwhile) or joy if the giver was now a year older (specifically in the case of grandchildren). This would be followed by playing of carols and drinking of Champagne. When we attended this ceremony, in my grandparents' day, she would burst into uncontrollable sobs on the playing of silent night. I would always ask "gran why do you cry every year when we play Silent night?' She replied "one day you will understand.

After Gran's demise, dad would likewise burst into uncontrollable sobs on the playing of silent night. Now I do the same, I think I understand.

My second Christmas, that I recall, was when I was about four. We lived in a residential hotel. This was common amongst the working classes in South Africa in the fifties. At any rate Dad said I should put a pillow at the foot of my bed and Father Christmas ( Santa Claus) would put my presents in the pillow. I duly did so, but was so excited that Christmas eve that I could not sleep. Every 5 minutes (or so it seemed to me I would dive into the pillowslip to find out what Santa ha brought. Alas as the night wore on nothing materialized. Much to my chagrin an disappointment.

Somewhere in that night I recall Dad coming into the room and saying " I think we should put the presents down now so that we can go to bed". After that, I once again leapt to the foot of the bed. And nothing! The night wore on. now I needed tp pee. I got up and nearly broke my neck falling over a wheelbarrow and a bicycle. I was overjoyed Father Christmas had been there!. I assumed that some of the smaller wrapped presents were from Mom and Dad and those were the ones left by them! My belief in Father Christmas remained intact for another year (at least , as I recall)!

Our traditions, regarding the tree and carols and champagne, remained intact for many years after that.

The year after Dad passed on we carried on the tradition and guess who bawled their eyes out when we played "Silent Night. Yep me, gran's words came home to roost!

My youngest daughter and son introduced a new tradition once they became adults. This was the "tequila slammer" tradition. After the Champers at Christmas eve dinner we had tequila slammers amongst great hilarity (no exceptions, everyone took part). Politically, we had to split Christmas up, Christmas eve was the traditional dinner, direct family only , us, children (no grand children yet) and it was our special celebration. Turkey, Ham, Christmas pud , the lot. Christmas day was for the extended family, grandparents, brothers, brothers in-laws, kids and cousins. A much bigger affair. Same fair though.

The next year my son died in a car accident, so the next Christmas after that was minus him. The bitter, sweetest Christmas I have known. We had tequila slammers in his memory. This was the last traditional Christmas we had. After that I got divorced. My eldest son said the tradition was "rubbish" Why keep the kids up to midnight to distribute presents. And, why not go to a restaurant on Christmas day so no one is saddled with the costs or the subsequent cleanup.

I still long for the traditional Christmases' we had. They were great.

Christmas is a time of living, loving, nostalgia, remembrance, life and all meaningful things I to our all to short lives!