Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

I remember the first birthday present that meant anything: my first cat, Claus. I was 6. He was orange, furry, and smelled soft and clean.

I remember thinking I could not love anything more.

I remember decorating for the holidays was a big to-do in my house. Beginning with Halloween and going all out at Christmas.

I remember the excitement of the holiday season.

I remember Thanksgiving at grandma's.

I remember Thanksgiving at home.

I remember the day and weekend after Thanksgiving.

I remember the month of December.

I remember almost every room in the house glistened with a Santa or a snowman, placed with intention and cheer.

I remember the plastic Santa that rotated years of being indoors or outdoors.

I remember the staircase railing adorned with teddy bears and bows.

I remember the decorations in the downstairs bathroom and the old-fashioned plastic snowman in the corner that lit up with the flick of a switch.

I remember the snowman my mom painted, with one hand behind his back holding a candy cane and a devilish grin.

I remember our flocked trees.

I remember our green trees.

I remember the scent of the tree filling up the living room.

I remember the small tree dedicated to only cat ornaments.

I remember the tiny, twinkle tree kept in my room on the extended windowsill.

I remember boxes and boxes of familiar ornaments and the excitement and expression of joy when I pulled out each one and placed it on the tree, proclaiming, "this is my favorite one."

I remember familiar voices of Nate King Cole and Bing Crosby singing Silver Bells.

I remember how my mom and I would dance from room to room with holiday cheer.

I remember baking cookies with my mom and the cookie cutters shaped like trees, snowmen, and bells.

I remember the green and red sugary frosting and sprinkles.

I remember my favorite, the peanut butter cookies with Hershey Kisses.

I remember not enjoying the unwrapping of each Hershey Kiss.

I remember watching Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer and all the characters being in clay.

I remember the added excitement of being born on Christmas Eve.

I remember sharing a birthday with my father.

I remember the story of when I was born, my father asking my mother if I could be named after his mother.

I remember the photo taken of me the day I was born and brought home in a red stocking.

I remember the red stocking was kept in our hall linen closest.

I remember the stockings on the fireplace that had our names embroidered on them.

I remember asking my mom if people put Christmas trees in their home to celebrate my birthday.

I remember the annual Rudgear neighborhood potluck and soiree and how we celebrated at each home, voting for the best decorated tree.

I remember the excitement of Christmas break.

I remember my mom organized the best birthday parties and sleepovers for my friends and me.

I remember ice skating with my friends to celebrate.

I remember skating at Golden Skate and the mini rooms they had on the side of the rink for birthday celebrations.

I remember the birthday cake shaped like a big dress with a plastic doll in the middle.

I remember sleepovers with friends and doing crafts at the kitchen table.

I remember getting our hair and make-up done and then coming home and taking pictures on the stairs.

I remember I loved giving goodie bags and going to Boswells to pick out the surprises.

I remember getting an advent calendar each year and looking forward to the tiny piece of chocolate each day.

I remember Christmas Eve at my Uncle Roberts and Auntie Birgitta's home in San Francisco.

I remember looking forward to what my Uncle Robert would make for me. One year, it was a lamp in the shape of a shoe and spelled D-I-N-A.

I remember my favorite present being the beautiful wooden chest handmade with care and love.

I remember the bright city lights and decorations as we drove home.

I remember looking up at the sky and believing I saw Santa and his sleigh.

I remember my parents allowing us to open one gift for Christmas on Christmas Eve.

I remember never really falling asleep.

I remember anxiously sitting at the top of the staircase with my brothers as we waited for our parents to wake up.

I remember seeing the array of colorfully wrapped boxes under the Christmas tree.

I remember my favorite doll being a newborn baby and taking it everywhere.

I remember getting a pale turquoise 57' Chevy for my Barbie's. It was slick.

I remember my dad telling me (years later) how he put it together the night before.

I remember the year I got a pink bike with training wheels and a white plastic basket with flowers on the front.

I remember getting a pogo stick.

I remember playing with our neighbors on Benham Court with our new toys and treasures brought by Santa.

I remember Christmas morning as pure delight and joy.

I remember the tradition of family dinner with my cousins and how my mom and Aunt would rotate the holiday each year.

I remember the famous "stair" picture taken at my Aunt's house.

I remember as we got older, we didn't fit so perfectly as once when we were little.

I remember how I loved it more each year.

I remember the holiday season as perfect.