It's one day before Thanksgiving and I broke out my Christmas music. Yes you say - but you're not Christian. Well I grew up in a Christian home and my husband and his family are, my family is. The music brings back memories of folks long past. AND when you think about it, it's the rebirth of the God child on solstice night - the longest night of the year.
Memories kinda flood through my brain this time of year. Many are triggers by songs or watching a niece or nephew do something that is so much a something that their ancestor did.
One of my best memories is of my grandma Kate opening pistachios for me as I sat on the floor next to her at her flat, all of the adults talking around us. Her tree was aluminum and rotated on a stand. Next to it on either side were lights that changed from red to green to blue. Very festive! Each year she'd choose what color ornaments to put on it. There was never a mix - it was either red or blue or green. Yes. I remember it fondly.
My grandma Gert with her little tabletop tree would sit with my parents and Aunt LaVerne as we awaited the arrival of Aunt Bev and her beloved Cathy to drive in from Wind Lake. The sound of the church bells tolling calling her neighborhood to mass always come to mind when I hear Silver Bells. It was a small flat, but filled with lots of love.
Aren't Grandma hugs the best in the world?
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