Holiday Blog Event: Lena Grey – Memories of a Christmas Past
Memories of a Christmas Past by Lena Grey
The Christmas season is a magical time of year, when we allow ourselves to suspend our disbelief and let the spirit of our childhoods reign. It presents us with an excellent opportunity to put aside our differences and come together in peace and harmony.
Our family, like many others, has special traditions which have been fostered over the years. Ours are a bit different as we have always welcomed others to celebrate with us. Included in the mix were boy friends, girl friends, good friends , exes, etc., all were welcomed with open arms to join with us in our revelry. It happened so often, in fact, that my mom always set aside a few extra gifts just in case they were needed at the last minute.
My children ended up having more than one Christmas since their father and I were divorced when they were young. They loved it because, instead of two, they had three sets of grandparents who spoiled them rotten and they made out like bandits. Fortunately, everyone, on both sides of the family, were welcome to all of the family celebrations which, although a little odd at times, was, generally speaking, quite comfortable and made it much better for the children in the long run.
We’ve made many happy memories over the years and, with hope, will continue to do so. One in particular stands out in my mind. My son was ten years old and had just begun playing the violin. Needless to say, his playing left a lot to be desired.
My daughter and I were in the kitchen baking Christmas cookies, a ritual for us on Christmas Eve. We didn’t want to discourage him, so we were trying our best to ignore the awful sounds coming from the living room. We tried not to sigh, as he screeched and scratched across the strings. He was working so hard to get it right, and, as far as the actual notes went, he was succeeding, but with the tempo, he was failing miserably. When he attempted to play ‘Silent Night’ my daughter and I stopped what we were doing at the same time, glanced at each other and cringed. My daughter said: “I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but we’ve got to do something.”
I nodded and followed her into the living room where we offered our assistance, which he gladly accepted. Neither of us played violin, but we sang the songs for him so he could hear how it was supposed to be played and it did help. I’d like to say that there was a vast improvement in his playing, but that would be stretching it; still, after that he did play much closer to the way it should have sounded than he did beforehand. Even now, whenever I hear ‘Silent Night, I think of that day and smile.
About the Author:
Lena can be found providing her reviews of LGBT Fiction for Rainbow Books Reviews: