Christmas

When I was growing up my dad would take my brothers on a week long hunting trip every year. While they were away hunting, my mom and I made our own memories. I loved spending time with my mom. She would call my school and tell them I was sick. This was a secret tradition we kept for many years. While "sick" my mom and I would shop for gifts and decorate the house for Christmas. It took several trips to bring down all of the Christmas decorations from the attic. I can still remember the smell of the attic in the house I grew up in. Such a sweet smell. We lived in an old stucco house on a bluff. If you ask me it was perfect for Christmas. High ceilings for a big tree. A fireplace for the stockings my grandma in Oregon made. Actually, she misspelled my name for years. My stocking said Emilie. She also made us a nativity scene. It always took us the longest to arrange the scene just right on the mantle. From my mom's childhood we had bubble lights and an old white ceramic Christmas tree full of holes for tiny colored pegs. It was my job to insert the pegs. Over the years we lost some of the original pegs and half of them were replaced by pegs from my Light-Bright. I remember turning it around and around to make sure the colors were evenly spread out. In my eyes the house was gorgeous. When we were done decorating we would turn off all the lights except for the Christmas lights and sit and talk into the night. If I ever have kids, I hope to pass along the tradition of calling them in sick once a year for the sake of Christmas.