Well, here it is, Christmas Eve, 2015. Cheryl and I are at our home in Kansas City. Hey, that is a huge new thing. This place has been a labeled a construction zone for almost five years. Now it has been promoted to a real home. It is almost complete, lacking a few cabinets in the kitchen, a counter top, and a couple of fixtures in the bathroom off the kitchen. Oh yeah! And few thousand dollars worth of kitchen appliances! With those in place, we can get the place inspected and finally move in! Then our current blow up mattress and two chairs will get some real replacement company!
But tonight is not about any of that. It is Christmas time, time to visit with family! Hopefully, time to remember what this season is really all about. And that is NOT about presents!
We had a very nice dinner with one of Cheryl's cousins, Sandra Register, and Scott, Laura, and the grandson, Colin (who is the reason we own this house, of course. Grandparents need a place to hide out after winding up the grandkid!) Then we opened a few Christmas presents in front of the tree Colin and Grandma decorated back in November. Here we were a few hours ago:
(That is me, Cheryl, Sandra, and Colin. Scott and Laura are hiding behind the camera. Believe it or not, I am trying to smile. Hard to do with one side our your face permanently welded into a frowning position. Hopefully Dr. Yu will do something about that during my next adventure at M.D. Anderson!)
My First Christmas Memory
Being in this house, visiting with family, and opening presents took me back to a much earlier time. My very first memory of Christmas must have been when I was about five years old, living in Dunn Loring, Virginia, in a tiny three-bedroom house. That was my first real house! We lived in apartments up until then. I remember a tree in the living room, and a tiny bedroom right behind the living room wall, that was mine. I had a baby sister, Carleen, er, Connie (she hates her real name), who was about two and living in a bedroom right next to my parent's bedroom.
What I remember most vividly about that Christmas Eve was being told to go to bed or Santa Claus would not stop by our house that night. Well, what five year old wants that to happen? So, I went to bed early and pretended to sleep. I fully intended to stay up all night and see this person and make sure I got all the presents I was supposed to get!
Of course that did not work. I fell asleep for a while, and woke up right around midnight. The house was dark, my parents were in bed. I was sure I heard bells as I woke up. I lay there straining to her them again, and I thought I did! I leaped out of bed and ran into my parents bedroom, jumped into their bed and made sure they knew that Santa Clause was on our roof!
Yeah, right, kid! Go back to bed!
Later I was told that a huge oak tree next to our house had branches that reached down to the roof. When the wind blew, they scratched the roof, and that sounded like bells to a kid. Right dad! I believe you! NOT! I knew the REAL truth, even if dad was bound and determined to explain what I had heard!
Well, I sneaked out of their room and stole a peek into the living room, but saw nothing. I was sure I should not get caught looking when Santa came down the chimney, so I hustled back to bed, and next thing I knew it was morning!
Christmas!
I heard mom in the kitchen, so I headed out, and was promptly told by my father to get in the kitchen and ignore what was under the tree! I was learning the family tradition that would be ours for the rest of my growing up time. We would be marched past all the wonderful stuff under the tree (much of which Santa must have left) and headed into the kitchen where mom would take FOREVER making breakfast for us! Finally, after HOURS, we would be led into the living room where we sat in front of the tree. Dad was responsible for handing out each present, and we had to wait until it had been opened to make sure we all saw everything. It was a huge PAIN for a kid to to be made to sit through all of this.
Lionel Christmas
The one thing I could not ignore was the train running around the tree, behind it and in front of it. It had my name all over it! It was a Lionel 027 freight train with about five cars and a locomotive blowing smoke out of the stack on the front. My dad was working the big, black, transformer, and a set of levers that worked the switches that made the train travel over a siding in front of the tree. It was too cool for words!
I had to wait until almost all of the presents were handed out before dad even let me touch that thing.
Arrrrrgh!
My dad had a thing for trains, so this was as much for him as it was for me. I remember him taking me to a train yard near D.C. when I was younger, and we rode on a round table with a locomotive that was being worked on. It was an amazing sight for an up-and-coming engineer (something I suspect started being drilled into me about then!) These monsters were just cool! And, now I had one of my own to play with. A bit smaller, but mine! (At least when I could pry the controls out of dad's hands!)
That was my first train present, but not the last by far. Dad added a second set, this one a futuristic train that was big enough I could almost ride on it! That was also a Lionel set. Then he added an American Flyer set after that. In addition he bought me as much track as he could, so much that I could route the trains practically around the entire house. We had a blast setting that empire up and playing with those things. I can still smell the smoke and the ozone from the sparks that shot out from under the engine as the contacts ran over the rails pulling power into the beast!
One year, after we moved back into a three bedroom apartment in Falls Church that would be my home until I left for college, I took all the track I had and did my first serious engineering project!
Runaway Trains
The American Flyer cars were very light, and rolled super smoothly across the tracks. I began to wonder how far I could get one to roll! Well, I had a ton of track, and a two story home to play in, so I tried something.
I tool a bunch of straight track and built a support system using some of the gazillion Western Paperback novels my dad had in boxes in our utility room. I ran the track off of my bed, out the door from my room and down the hall toward my parents bedroom. The car rolled smoothly to the end and had a bunch of speed to spare.
What next?
Well, at the end of that hall, you turned around and headed down the stairs to the first floor. Right! Could the car make that 180 degree turn and head down the stairs? Well, a few more paperbacks, and I had a banked curve of track making the turn. Guess what! The car made that turn and crashed down the stairs.
Next up, the stairs!
Well, I had tons more track, so I added straight pieces to reach the bottom of the stairs. A few test runs produced some dents in the wall at the bottom of the stairs (which I swore to mom must have been there when we moved in! What? Kids lie to their parents? Nah!)
More paperbacks, another banked curve, and the train now could run from my bed, down the hall, around the corner and down the stairs, around another banked curve and shoot out into the living room.
Serious fun for a kid with way too much track!
Get that train out of this house!
A bit more straight track, and I was through the living room, through the kitchen, and out the back door. I was sure this was a record of some kind!
Just for more fun, one of my co-conspirators in this adventure and I took some of those huge glass marbles and ran them down the same track. Sadly, they seldom made it through the living room. But that marvelous American Flyer passenger car, consistently sailed into the back yard.
All because of my dad gave me my first train for Christmas. Memories like that last a lifetime!
I lost all of my trains in a fire in a store room where my mom kept all of my high-school and college stuff while I was in graduate school. That made a huge dent in my treasure chest! Still, I have those memories!
Tinkerbell
About three years later, when I was eight and had a paper route and spending money of my own, I decided to save up my money and buy the family a present for Christmas. That was going to be a parakeet I had seen in the local Drug Fair in Falls Church. (That place was to be my Christmas Eve stop for years. They stayed open until about nine on Christmas eve, great for finding those last minute treasures like the fire-extinguishers I bought for everyone in desperation on a last minute shopping spree one year when I was in college. Sad, but true!)
That Christmas Eve, dad and I walked the mile or so to the Drug Fair, where I showed him my pick of the parakeets they had in the pet section. I sort of forgot about all the other stuff we would need, like a cage, food, and other junk. I had enough money saved up for the bird, and dad came to the rescue and bought a nice round cage with a door on the lid, and a few other essentials, like food!
We carried our haul back home in bags, and boxes, and got home after mom and the now two sisters (Karen showed up forcing us to move into a bigger home) were all in bed.
Dad and I put the bird into the cage, and carefully wrapped the cage up in Christmas paper. We set it on top of the old radio console we had (huge piece of furniture back then!) and went to bed before the morning ritual.
When Mom and Carleen opened up the present, everyone was thrilled by the new addition. We named her (we think it was a her) Tinkerbell! That bird lived in our living room for the next dozen years, until I was off to college, when she ended up in a bedroom.
Tinkerbell was my responsibility. I had to feed her, change the water, make sure she had interesting reading material in the bottom of her cage. You know, all that bird stuff you need to do. She and I bonded and she was always chirping wildly when I can into the room.
Dad, on the other hand, was her nemesis!
Dad would take her out of the cage, hold her tightly in his hand and hold her up to his face and talk to her. Sometimes, he did this after too much Budweiser! She was never happy with this kind of thing. One year, she got even. When she was right next to his nose, she chomped on it leaving a nice scar that he wore for the rest of his life. Sweet revenge!
Dad did not leave her alone after that, but he was much more careful!
Tinkerbell never forgot me!
My sisters told me that Tinkerbell could recognize my walk as a came up the sidewalk to the house. After I left for college, she would announce my return any time I came home.
She would climb out of her cage and ride on my shoulder as I visited with family any time I returned. Of all my pets, I still feel she was the one I was closest to. Gaizi, my Arabian mare, probably tied with her, but that was many years later!
Sadly, Tinker bell died at age 14 or so, after being part of our family for her entire life. We all still miss her!
Remember Christmas
What has happened to Christmas? Sad to say, many of us fail to even go to church during this time. We are missing our church events this year, since we are up in Kansas City, but we still try to remember why this season is even part of our culture.
Jesus was born on this day those thousands of years ago, to bring us words of kindness, healing, and hope for our future. We all need that, more so now that ever. Just watch the news on any given day, and see what a mess we can be. This is about that message, and His birthday!
Whether you are a church-goer or not, history tells us of this man and his mission to make better people out of all of us. So get out of those stores and say thanks to Him! This is about Him, not so much about buying that cool present you were told you need to buy!
I trust in Him, and the hope He brought to us all. Cheryl and I need that more than ever, again now, as we approach round four in my cancer adventure.
Cheryl and I are praying that all of you have a very Merry Christmas, and enjoy the New Year's celebrations and get home safely.
Signing Off!
I am sitting here in the front bedroom of our home in KC wrapping this story up. Outside I can see the street lined with luminaries. Both sides of the street are lined with white bags, a bit of sand, and a light, and all are lit up brightly. Many of the houses are covered with Christmas lights. The only thing missing is snow, but I will gladly pass on that. We are from Texas now, and Texans have no idea what snow even is! (At least those of us down Austin way do not. In the pan-handle it is another story!)
Oh my! I need to get to bed before Santa Claus gets here. It is almost midnight!
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
From Cheryl and I with love!
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