The 2012 Holiday Season is here, and I'm sure that with its approach
many of us are anxious about how we will be celebrating them. For great
many of us, the memories of happy and carefree holidays past that were
celebrated with our loved ones who for some reason or another are no
longer with us. Some of these loved ones have gone from us by passing
away; while others have moved on to a new life of some sort. Either way;
they are no longer a vital part of our lives and for all intents and
purposes have left us behind, and all too often their departure has left
a huge void that even with the passing of time; has been hard to fill.
Each
Thanksgiving Holiday brings back so many treasured memories of being a
child growing up in my parents house. The delicious aromas of cooking
filled our house, but what I remember most was not just the food aromas,
but the house itself had a certain special smell all through it. This
was an indescribable fragrance. It was created not only by pine scented
decorations or pumpkin pie; I think it was the pure essence of love
coupled with the unmistakable sweetness of my Mother that filled the air
and made our house a home.
My Mother was an excellent cook, and she
always laid out a sumptuous spread fit for a king, even though the
guests at our table usually consisted of my parents, my younger brother,
and our grandparents...maybe an aunt and uncle or two. My Daddy loved the holidays. Absolutely loved
them! He would start to stake out a Christmas tree for us right after
Halloween was over, and from that time on he was as happy as a child
anticipating Christmas.
For Thanksgiving, he would help Momma out
in the kitchen by chopping the veggies or the "goodies" as she called
them to go into the stuffing and the potato salad. He would joke around
with her and tease her so much until finally she had to banish him from
her domain in order to get her cooking done. I would be watching the
parades on television, reading a magazine or maybe listening to records
while they were working in the kitchen and I could hear them talking,
laughing, and just loving the closeness they shared simply by being
together. She would put him in charge of the turkey from the moment she
put the big bird in the oven until it was time to set it on the table as
the centerpiece of the Thanksgiving Day meal. There was a certain
comfort and a feeling of well-being just knowing that my parents were
happy and we were together as a family and most of all that soon I would
be eating one of the best meals in the world!!
Both of my
precious parents have been gone for a long time...twenty seven and
twenty five years as of this year. But although time by the grace of God
has healed the wound, and has dulled the pain the void they left can
never be filled. Sometimes it seems as if it were only yesterday that I
sat at my Mother's table in her warm and cheery kitchen. Sometimes it
seems as if I never sat there at all. I am not alone in this experience
or this feeling. Anyone who has been orphaned or widowed has felt the
enormous pain of loss and has looked at the future ahead of them as
bleak and lonely at one time or another. Life as we had known it...has
ceased to exist.
I remember my Mother not only at holiday times,
but when I'm singing a particular song, or looking at old family photos.
I believe that I can still smell her essence when I close my eyes and
think hard enough. When I see her in family photos, I can go back in
time mentally and recollect the exact thing she was doing in some of
those photos. I can see my Daddy laughing, dancing a little jig when
he'd had a little sip or two and see him at the kitchen stove frying
bacon for breakfast. I remember him coming home from work tired and
dirty from working on automobiles all day. Later when he'd had a job
promotion, I recall him as a sales person in a local hardware
store...charmingly assisting customers with their purchases. And giving
me lunch money on my way to work even after I had become all grown up.
Memories...so
many memories! They can comfort, they can make me laugh until I cry,
and make me cry until I laugh. I dream of them both quite often. In my
dreams they are speaking, but although I can see their faces and discern
their features distinctly; I can hardly remember the sound of their
voices. But that's okay; they echo off of the walls of my soul and they
resound deep in my spirit. Here are the two places where their voices
will never be without sound.
I would love to recreate those kind
of holidays, but even though I have tried with my own family it just
doesn't feel the same. Maybe its because I'm not then same. I'm too
different now and too much time has passed with me being on my own. I'm
not sure if I'd know how to relate to anyone else at this point in my
life. I lose myself in the past sometimes. When I'm anxious, lonesome or
feeling blue I go there...back to the little frame house where I spent
most of my growing years and I'm safe and taken care of.
I can
hear the television with the sound of "Gunsmoke" or "Rawhide" westerns
playing and my Daddy is sitting in his easy chair in front of the set,
totally immersed in his favorite shows. My Momma is in the kitchen
washing dishes and there's cake leftover from dinner sitting on the
sideboard. My younger brother is playing with his trains in his room,
and I'm sprawled across my bed in my room leafing through an "Archie"
comic book. And I remain here until I feel as if its safe to come back
to reality, and when I do I feel stronger and more able to accept and to
cope. Until its time to go back again.
Memories...of the way we were.
