Christmas Memories Part 2

A memory of Christmas morning before daylight

I don’t remember anyone ever sleeping late on Christmas morning. Somebody always woke up first, and once that happened, it didn’t take long before the rest of us were up too. The floor was cold, and you could see your breath if you stood still too long, but nobody cared much about that.

Mamaw would already be moving around, not fast, just steady, like she always did. Papaw usually came in behind her, rubbing his eyes and pretending he wasn’t awake yet. The only lights on were the ones on the tree, and everything else stayed dark for a while.

We sat where we were told and waited. I can still remember how quiet it felt outside, like the whole world hadn’t woken up yet. Inside, though, it felt different. Like something was waiting on us to notice it.

A memory of washing up after Christmas supper

After Christmas supper, the kitchen never stayed quiet for long. Somebody would start stacking plates, and before you knew it the dishpan was full and the water was running. The windows fogged up again, just like they had earlier in the day.

Mamaw washed, and Papaw dried, the same way they always did. The good dishes only came out once a year, so everyone was careful handing them over. Somebody always asked where something went, even though it went to the same place every year.

Leftovers got wrapped up and set aside, and the table was finally cleared. By then, the house felt tired but good, like it had done what it was supposed to do that day. Christmas wasn’t finished, but the noise had settled, and that part always sticks with me.