Front Porch Stories: The Best-Ever Christmases
By KATHY BOHANNON, Special to The Weekly
I’m that person who loves Christmas.
It’s the first hours after Halloween that the media begins to flood us with all kinds of prompts to buy their products. But of course, it’s not the buying that hooks me in; it’s the commercials that feature beautiful decorations, glimmering trees, twinkling lights, and heartwarming moments of family arriving at the homes of loved ones.
These commercials often cause me to reflect on holiday meals at mom and dad’s house. We didn’t realize at the time that mom was the cornerstone of our family gatherings. There are four of us kids and we had thirteen total kids and spouses between us. Apparently, that wasn’t enough for mom, because we were also blessed with a variety of aunts, uncles and cousins dropping in to complete the chaotic and loving atmosphere of the holiday meals.
I’ll never forget how mom would be busy in the kitchen, days before the big meal, wearing her apron and managing at least five dishes going on at all times on the stove, in the oven and mixing on the countertops. Mom would either be singing or humming gospel songs, and many times dad would join in, his bass voice booming in union with hers.
While mom was cooking, sister Carol would play the piano and sister Barbara and I would sing with her, always including the song “Tell Me Why the Stars Do Shine”. Without fail, dad would come in and boom his beautiful voice to join ours. He couldn’t resist the “Tell Me Why” song.
When the varied components of mom’s meal were finally simmering, baking or cooling in the fridge, mom would come in and replace sis Carol on the piano, her alto blending perfectly with the rest of us. As a young girl, I envisioned us touring with mom on piano, dad’s bass vocals and all of us girls singing beautifully together. My brother would be our tour manager and attempt to keep us all in line.
As I grew up and married, the gatherings only got bigger. I am the youngest, and as the family caboose, I brought along my husband and two children. By this time, oldest sis Carol had grandchildren and the addition brought our number to a gazillion. It was wonderful.
With that many people in the same place, we spilled out from the kitchen to the dining room, the living room and the porches. The porches were my favorite places because we could let down our hair and be a little crazy. The smokers would smoke, the jokesters would joke, and we all laughed until we cried.
Everything changed when mom passed away. Although she didn’t make huge plans and dictate our family gatherings, it was assumed that we would all be together at hers and dad’s home for the holidays.
None of us were ready for it to end.
Today we are spread out, and no one has a home big enough for all of us even if we all made the effort. We are “busy” with our own, and there’s no “mom and dad” to go to. We are the moms and dads. We are the grandparents. We are the small family that branched off from the big one, the one that mom cherished and nurtured. We are the elders now, and it is up to us to make new memories, however that looks.
While I miss the days gone by, I’m thankful to have had them at all. They were the best ever, and a blessing to have experienced.
Kathy Bohannon can be reached at [email protected].
