Hunger, hunger, hunger... My stomach was growling as I flipped through the ads. There were so many pretty deals.
"Look at those leggings!!! I could use some of those and for 12 dollars a pair!!... Oh, ice skates for 40 dollars... I do want to ice skate more often.. These could be for me!" I said excitedly as I looked up at my sister.
"Yeah, all right" as she rolled her eyes. Then I struck up a conversation with her about cell phone plans. Should we go this weekend and score a deal, while fighting a crowd? That was the question we asked. I couldn't make up my mind and "That" I said, "Is a 'pickle'!!"
My stomach continued to talk to me as my grandparents prepared for our "Turkey Day" dinner.
"Ok, seriously" I thought, "They got the entire meal prepared from Kroger... Don't they just need to heat it up??" Instead of dwelling on it, I entertained myself with the flashing pages. It appeared that the same things were on sale everywhere. But, I was only halfway through the ads. and maybe, just maybe, I would find that one thing I couldn't live without!
Finally, dinner is announced as ready. So, we file in observing the stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes, green beans, and turkey.
After dinner my grandma glances through the freezer, looking for the lime sherbet that she announced was an option for dessert.
"Dave," she asks my grandpa, "can you look through and find the lime sherbet?"
"I didn't even know we had any??" he says impatiently, "Why do I have to look for it?"
"Because you are better at stooping down and searching for things," she says simply.
"Yeah," I joked, "that's the strength you bring to the marriage."
A few years back my grandma pulled her back out and never recovered from it. At 82 years old, with a weak back that was forming a "C" shape, everyday chores were a challenge for her. Thankfully, she doesn't sit back and complain about her circumstances. Instead, she does what she can everyday. What she can't do, she asks or.... orders my grandpa to do. While preparing the table for dinner she had him reach the plates she couldn't.
"And Grandpa," she tells me, "will carry the boxes of ornaments upstairs from the basement."
After the last family member left, she and I talked about current events in the country. It was unbelievable that people were crawling across a major Interstate to get attention. Union Terminal in Cincinnati needs major repairs. Once fatigue set in and the conversation seemed to take too much work, we excused ourselves to get to bed.
This was an annual tradition. One that I half-heartedly requested prayers for. I didn't ask for God's help to spend the night in my grandparents guest bedroom. It was pink, covered with floral designs in the same décor I remember as a child. It induced tranquility and nostalgia for me. My grandparents moved into this house 23 years ago, when I was 7.
The hard part was "Black Friday." There were deals flying off the shelves all over the Tri-State. Instead of filling my appetite for new things, I was sentenced to help my grandma with her Christmas tree. It never took an hour, or two hours, it took a day. My sister couldn't take a day off work and my only female cousin was in NYC celebrating with family. The male grandchildren would never have patience for the job. That left me. Only I would be the one to follow the directions of, "you see that branch right there," she points from the couch, "yeah, hang that ornament on that branch." Then she adds, "Push it back if you can."
The Eskimos from Alaska, the German figurines, designs by Christopher Radko, the two from Brazil, along with the ornaments that displayed their 50th Wedding Anniversary. Each of these categories, along with a few others, needed to be hung close together on the tree. Each one was passed from her hand, one at a time, as she explains the origin of it.
"This ornament.....," she would start to say. They came from everywhere. There was a reindeer from Europe, a peanut from Atlanta, plastic ones from the 1950's, and Tall Stacks from Cincinnati that displayed 1788- 1988. A few ornaments were made from preschool students she used to teach; several were mailed to her from around the country from friends and family; and one was bought with 33 cents the first year she and my grandpa were married. It goes on forever... the stories she shares with me.
I felt particularly tired that morning. Not to make excuses, I was an introvert that was shutting down.
After our break for lunch that included turkey sandwiches, the two of us were back at it again. She hands me an ornament that I wouldn't pick up if I saw it on the sidewalk. It was obviously homemade and very ratty.
"I made this my Junior year in college with a second grade classroom for my teacher observation," she informs me. "Oh, and this ornament is very special," she says, pulling out another one. "When I used to teach preschool, one of the moms painted this for me and she was Jewish!" she exclaims, showing me the mother Mary holding baby Jesus. At this point, we have finished four boxes.
My grandma hands me another one and comments, "this must be from the '50's because it's plastic."
Finally, my curiosity struck. "Did people not want to spend money on Christmas décor back then? Is that why they used plastic?" I asked.
"No, it was because of the war" she tells me. "Oh, come here, I want to show you something. This is so interesting and it's a true story!" I follow her out of the family room, down the hallway and into the living room. In here, on a three foot tree that has been around for decades, is where her antique ornament collection hangs.
She pulls one off and hands it to me. As I was holding it, she shows me where the hole is on the angel's arm. There was a black rim around the hole.
"This was my mother's as a child," she continues, "and back then they lit there tree with candles and a candle burned through this ornament." Then she carefully takes another one off a branch. It was made from paper with an angelic design. My grandma tells me, "This was from around 1900, I got it from my mother also."
A peace that transcends all understanding swept over me. I excused myself to use the restroom. Sitting in there, I put my head in my hands and thought, "I am one selfish human being." How many people would pay money to spend one more time with their grandmother?? To hear all the stories from her lifetime, while helping her celebrate her favorite Holiday??? My heart sunk, knowing that were thousands of adults shopping that day, who would rather have time with a deceased relative than new leggings. How many years would it be from now that I look back on this day and miss my grandmother terribly??? I choked back the tears.
We did finish decorating that Christmas tree. All the little Angels, hung on a little string, are now adequately at the top. The Mrs. Claus and Santa, made from felt fabric, are only a branch away from each other. The less important ornaments are hung in the back of the tree. There was a place found for every ornament that my grandmother declared should be "front and center!"
