This is an easy one. It was the Christmas of 2000. The year my mother died. My grandma was getting her house remodeled. New kitchen, new bathroom, new carpet, removal of windows, new paint and appliances, etc. Basically, it had been going on for months, and it was a huge mess. She always did a huge Christmas meal- turkey, ham, dressing, gravy... the works. All sided with a hundred desserts. But without a functioning kitchen, she wasn't able to prepare her normal meal. We had sandwiches made from a deli tray. She even brought the microwave into the cluttered living room so that I would have melted cheese. We all sit around a small table with our folding chair and shared stories about Momma. It was a sad time. My grandmother was an emotional wreck, to say the least. She felt bad that we didn't have a good meal or a Christmas tree out up. She had so many gifts for us, but didn't have most of them wrapped. She still, to this day, regrets that Christmas. But to me, it was the most at home I had felt since Momma had passed. No, it wasn't traditional, but that didn't mean that it wasn't special. I'll always remember it.
No comments:
Post a Comment