Christmas Traditions

Christmas 2014 has come and gone, now providing an opportunity to reflect on how the Sinclairs on Emerson Street observe traditions defiantly in the face of unwelcome change. We adapt to merge old traditions with new conditions. Some things are lost but enough is preserved to keep this a heartwarming time of year for Cindy and the rest of us.

In the Sinclair household our traditions begin with selecting the Christmas tree. Traditionally Charissa would join me as we selected and cut down our tree from Charlie Tirrell’s lot. That has not happened for awhile, due to other factors besides Cindy’s condition. We use to get a card in the mail letting us now what days we could come; that did not happen this year. Our Plan B is to buy an already cut tree sold from someone’s home not too far away. Charissa still came with me for this, preserving at least the father/daughter aspect of the tradition.

Getting the tree meant getting all the Christmas decorations out of the attic and putting them up. Cindy used to be in charge of this: decorations on the tree, lights on the porch, wreath on the door, stockings hung from the railing of the stairs and Christmas knick knacks throughout the house. I never was involved much with this Christmas tradition, our daughters are in charge now. The amount of decorations we put up have shrunk in recent times. Indeed, if not for a last minute intervention by me the Christmas stockings would not have made it out of the attic this year. Still, we had one afternoon of decorating, Cindy together with her daughters.

One thing we did as recently as last year, but failed to make it on our tradition list this year, was put together an elaborate gingerbread house. This also was Cindy’s province, having been excellent at arts and crafts. Our daughters would delight in adding their own creative touches to the project. At this point if the daughters made a gingerbread house Cindy would be a spectator, though probably an appreciative one.

The month leading up to Christmas used to be a time for baking more than just the walls for gingerbread houses. Cindy was famous for her cinnamon and maple walnut breads. We established a tradition of giving bread out to neighbors, friends and families at Christmas. Cindy had the easy part of spending many hours over many days baking the bread, our daughters joining her as eager apprentices, learning how to roll out and knead the dough just right. I had the hard part of spending Christmas Eve’s Day delivering the bread around town, usually with one or more of our kids, often being invited in for hot chocolate or goodies at each stop.

Not surprisingly, both our daughters love to bake now. This year Serena preserved our tradition by baking Christmas cookies to distribute. Cindy went with her to distribute the presents while I stayed at home. Cindy needs the social contact more than me and, well, I really owe it to her.

There’s another way in which this tradition has been preserved. We were the ones that started it among our network, steadily expanding until Cindy baked over 100 loaves to distribute. Over time others joined in the giving. After four or five years people came by our house to drop off bread or treats. Now this tradition carries on in town with or without us; most people probably don’t even know our founding role. That’s a pretty good feeling.

On Christmas Eve our church has two services: the “rowdy” 5:00 service that the people who come to church twice a year attend and the 10:00 vespers service. My brother Ernie and I sang in both services, yet in between we would host a Christmas Eve dinner for the both our extended families that lived in the state. Usually we would have a Christmas lamb or turkey, along with plenty of homemade coffee liqueur on hand that Cindy made from scratch … and of course that would be when we handed out much of the bread.

This year we just had the nuclear family plus Charissa’s boyfriend Curt over for Christmas Eve dinner. A full blown party for ALL the Sinclairs (there are lots of us) might be a little too much commotion for Cindy now, while the preparation for such a party is a bit taxing for the rest of us without her in charge. Still, by preserving the tradition with just the nuclear family we gained most of the good cheer to be had, particularly for Cindy. I would say she fairly glowed by the end of the evening.

While the kids were growing up we often had company on Christmas morning. My brother Bob and his kids sometimes came down from New Hampshire on Christmas Eve and spent the night. Other years our good friend Ed Kostak, without kids of his own, would come over for when Christmas gifts were unwrapped. I make breakfast on Christmas morning, always making sure to include bacon. There was a tradition of Ed and I sipping some of the bacon grease from the pan. Um, we haven’t preserved that tradition.

We spend Christmas afternoon and evening at Cindy’s sister Lynn’s house. Early on we used to pick names from a hat to be their secret Santa. When I first joined the family they used to rig it so my father-in-law always had me. The purpose was to have someone with a sense of fashion to dress me up, since I was void of such a sense. Secret Santa got replaced by a Chinese auction, with some gag gifts making it back to the auction every subsequent year. After awhile that tradition was replaced with one of playing games, my niece Mandy’s Mall Madness game being the favorite for the holidays. Like with the Sinclair Christmas Eve gathering, the Galvin Christmas gathering has dwindled in size as well. Siblings and children have started different Christmas traditions of their own.

I can pinpoint my favorite Christmas memory, one that truly represented the spirit of the holidays for me. One year Bob and his kids came down later on Christmas Eve, after our kids were in bed. His son Jeremy slept on the couch by the Christmas tree. The next morning the kids had to wait for my signal, as per our tradition, before they could come down the stairs. Usually they waited patiently, no big deal. Yet on this memorable morning they were chomping at the bit to come downstairs, not for presents, but to see their extended family that arrived during the night. The image is forever ingrained in my head of our small kids racing down the stairs to bounce on top of Jeremy lying on our couch.

That’s what Christmas traditions are all about after all, ways of bonding family and friends together.