Christmas Memories, Realized

A few weeks before the Christmas holiday, I called my father to ask him some questions about my mother (<--link here).

See, I understand a few things very well... After time, we often embellish, understate and/or completely forget the details of the past. Also, when someone we love dies, we tend to either hang on to all the bad stuff -arguments, imperfections, pain and regrets- or instead, glorify the past, and that person becomes perfected in the eyes of those who loved that person. I have many memories of my mother, some good and some bad, but all from the eyes of my childhood, and this makes it particularly difficult to discern how reality-based my memories of her may or may not be.

Christmas is a very emotion-ladden time for me for the fact that my mum was a total Christmas nut and Christmas has never been the same for me since she died. As well as I can recall, within the first week after Turkey Day, if not the very day after Thanksgiving, Christmas began = off we went to the Christmas tree lots and out came the boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations, and none of it was ever taken down or put away until AFTER the New Year. Every room in the house reflected the holiday. The advent calendars? The garlands? all the ornaments and figurines? the countless Christmas albums and casettes? the strings and strings of Chrimpus lights? the pine wreaths? the bells? And the candles?!? Oh yes, THE CANDLES!!! It's amazing the house never caught on fire, although repeatedly, my bangs, eyebrows and lashes all caught flame. [Note: I was a bad, bad lil' fire bug, well into my twenties.] And all the baked goods and all the homemade Christmas candies? INSANE. And all the many homemade crafty creations? The wall and chandelier hangings, Christmas stockings, cross-stitch and hand-sewn dollies, hand-painted ornaments, and the night gowns and jammies made especially for Christmas Eve? And the spirit, the spirit felt throughout the home? Simply joyous ~ and most importantly, no stress.
From what I can remember, my mum was thrilled outta her mind about it all - absolutely tickled! delighted! bubbling! And truly gracious. But I wasn't sure... I haven't yet been able to recreate the kind of Christmas I remember from my childhood, and although there are legitimate reasons for this thus far, I had been wondering if what I want and its basis was ever even real.

When I called my father, my question for him was basically this: Do I remember my mother's enthusiam and her enjoyment of the Christmas holiday accurately? Was she truly as happy as I remember? Was she ever stressed out by any of her holiday endeavors? all the planning? the many projects? the hosting of holiday parties? Because I don't remember her ever getting stressed out at all over any of it - not at all - and I wanted to know, did I just never witness the stress?

My father not only confirmed my Christmas memories of my mum, he also explained - she was just so happy to be around for another one; alive another year, another Christmas.