Monday, 8 December 2008

B L D No. 8

I have always tried to give my children the kind of Christmas I was fortunate enough to have, but it just never achieved that billing. There is a lot to be said for being the one the magic is given too opposed to being the one that is responsible for creating the magic.

And believe me here when I say that receiving the magic in my childhood home was never about money. For us, money was the least of it all.

My maiden name is Ste. Marie and experiencing Christmas in my childhood home (which ever one we lived in at the time) was truly a magical experience.

There was always a lot of excitement during the Christmas season because no matter where you went in the house you would find people wrapping presents. Everyone was always happy and very excited. You would always have an exciting conversation with someone while whispering behind your hands so that when you told them what you had bought they would encourage you and tell you that the recipient wanted just that exact gift.

My Dad always bought the Christmas tree just a few days before Christmas Eve because it was more affordable then. Sometimes if it were hard times financially we would even manage to get the tree free. Dad would gather us all to come and decorate the tree, while in reality; we would watch him decorate the tree. However, we were always allowed to throw the tinsel on it.

Sounds are coming back to me right now: Dad, this is a pretty one. Did I make that one Mom? Dad the bulb is blown on the green light, I’ll get the new one. Mom, where are the new lights Dad bought for the tree? Wow Dad this is the best tree ever. Mom that bulb broke.


glorv1 said...

What a great post Renee. It took me back also to my childhood as well. It is so strange how if you do keep quiet, you can hear the voices of the past. I miss my dad. He's only been gone a year and a few months, but I hear him vividly. His sound of his happy voice is inside of my head. I hear him clearly. Thank you for sharing. Have a great day.

Anonymous said...

Thank God for memories, I could especially hear (almost, like we were gathered there) green bulb is blown...

Love it
There are so many memories and you are right, Christmas was always an exciting time to be a Ste. Marie.

Love You

YayaOrchid said...

And I can very easily see and hear the delighted squeals of little children gathered in the bosom of love. What a nice post!

CarolineH said...

What a beautiful post Renee. You know, you may not think that you've given your children the kind of Christmas that you had, but you gave them new memories that they'll be so fond of later on in life and are even fond of now! I wrote a poem back in 2001 while my kids were decorating. Hope you like it.

Paper Chains

Ribbons and bows, all in a row,
Waiting to find a home.
Snow on the rooftops, and trees lit up bright,
Waiting for Christmas to come.

Popcorn and cranberries, strung in long strings,
Like halos around the tree.
But the most precious ornament hanging there,
Is a long paper chain made for me.

A chain made of paper with reds, greens and blues,
Circling the tree with pride...
And the little angels that made it for me,
Seem to take it all in stride!

Its just strips of paper, with small bits of tape,
But to me as pure as gold..
For those small strips of paper, touched with sweet hands,
Each has a tale to be told.

Maybe a thought, or a prayer, or a hope,
When linking them one by one..
or maybe a smile and happy laugh,
Secrets shared with my daughter and son.

It took them so long to get it just right,
No two links are of the same hue,
But they had a great time, and shared in the task,
I can't think of much better, can you?

Our memories will stay, of that bright winters day,
But the chain its self will be gone..
The colors will fade, and the links will give way,
In our hearts it will always live on..

Each Christmas is special, and won't be forgotten,
Tucked safe in the archives of time..
This one as well, I will always remember,
Paper chains made by angels of mine.

Anonymous said...

Hey Renee... This is a very new different christmas season for you, your mom and siblings. I loved the first postcard. Remember Love transends different levels of realities. Your dad is hugging all of you. Love DPG

Renee said...


I have to thank you here for that beautiful poem. Do I like it, I love it.

Everyone, Caroline was a dear friend of my fathers and is now a dear friend of mine. My Dad always said that Caroline was a talented poet and singer, I can attest to that as I have read her poetry and heard her sing.

Thank you Caroline, I love it.


Emerald Arts said...

Oooh christmas tree lights can be so annoying. Ours used to all die if one of the bulbs blew, then we (we being dad) would have to spend hours going through and finding which one needed replacing :P

Anonymous said...

Dearest Renee,

This is the first blog I've ever read. You do have many thoughts circling in your head. Do you remember the book from years ago when I still lived in Winnipeg about "my grandmother wears purple" or something like that. Every time I see it it, or think about it, I am reminded of you. I miss you. A lot. Have a peaceful day.


Renee said...

Andrea I am so glad to see you here. You have never stopped being important to me. Our connection is a real and beautiful one.

Sorry you have to read about all my shit here, but that is the way it is.

Yes, I do remember the book. Of course I do.

Love Renee