I continued struggling a bit over which traditions should be saved and which traditions we have already created. Cassie is enormously sentimental. Family is very important to her and she wants to make sure that Lacey understands tradition. As Les and I were discussing plans for Christmas, Cassie interrupted and asked if we could make some new traditions this year. I asked if she had anything specific in mind. "Well," she hesitated, "I don't want to hurt your feelings. But, do you think we could have something other than cod for dinner on Christmas Eve?"
Oh, the dreaded cod. The tradition of the cod began decades ago. After moving to Colorado, my Dad anxiously embraced the customs of his new Italian friends. And so, we were introduced to the tradition of having cod for dinner on Christmas Eve. The cod was purchased from "Joe's Deli." It came dried, which was quite a novelty to us as we frequently consumed fresh fish. My Mom tenderly basted that cod in butter and then broiled it. During dinner, we ate without speaking because we had been taught not to criticize food. But, we were all thinking the same thing, as we downed glass after glass of water. I remember the four of us crammed in the back seat of the car after dinner, en route to our Christmas program at church. That cod was just bloating in our stomachs. I don't know when I've ever been so uncomfortable from food. (Okay, Beth, Chuckie Cheese runs a close second!) It turns out that dried cod is supposed to be soaked in water to remove all the wonderful salt that is used as a preservative.
My parents continued to cook cod every Christmas Eve and it soon became a Good Friday tradition as well. Once my siblings and I had left home, dried cod arrived in our mailboxes twice a year, lovingly wrapped in white freezer paper and labeled in my Dad's handwriting. Over the years, I tried various ways of cooking the cod. I even found the traditional Italian recipe that was for pasta sauce with crab and other seafood. However, my Mom preferred her recipe. Last Christmas, we still had a bit of cod saved in the freezer that we cooked. But, because I will always have the memories, that's one tradition that I'm willing to change.
My parents loved Christmas. One of my earliest memories is of a trip we made to Santa's Village in Chicago. This was at a large department store, most likely Marshall Field's. We all took the commuter train and my Dad was delighted to show us how he got to and from work every day. I remember waiting in line to see Santa and being fascinated by the displays. Of course, there was music playing and when the song, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause," came on my Dad just lit up. He was beaming from ear to ear and kept nudging my Mom and laughing. I must have been about six years old and I couldn't understand why my Dad was so thrilled with the idea of Santa kissing my Mother. I don't remember much else about that day. But, I've never forgotten how happy my Father was. Now, if I'd started this paragraph by saying that, "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus," was my favorite Christmas song you would have thought I was crazy.
I've extracted my own traditions from this memory. Every December I take a day off and pull the girls out of school. They get dressed up and we go to Pentagon City. We walk around the mall and admire the beautiful decorations. I still make them pose for a Santa photo, and I'm grateful that Cassie's willing to help make these memories for Lacey. Then, we have lunch out and do a little shopping. After that, we go to church and sort the toys that have been donated for the adopted families. This has been our tradition ever since Cassie was in kindergarten and I hope it continues for many more years.
My parents also loved Christmas trees. Every year they would try to find the tallest, but also least expensive tree in town. You can imagine what a challenge that was. For a number of years, J.C. Penney's had a tree lot. I remember one year when my parents picked us all up early on the last day of school before break. This was a double treat. Not only were we getting out of school early; we didn't have to ride the bus. We headed over to Penney's and got our 12-foot beauty. Once at home, the decorating traditions began. My Dad was the only one who could place the antiquated strings of lights. Of course, it took hours to get all the bulbs working. We would all sit on the floor watching for awhile and eventually get discouraged. Then, once the lights were up, it was time for my parents to place the ancient tinsel garlands. These were actually made from metal. I can see my Dad on his rickety wooden ladder, carefully wrapping the tree with the faded tinsel. Ornaments were then placed with precision - heaviest ones at the bottom; interior branches filled first so the tree looked full. Hours later, we'd finally get to the icicles. These were placed individually, certainly not in clumps. Finally, my Dad's toy electric train was placed around the base of the tree. No wonder we had to get out of school early for this ritual!
I'll admit, to my kids it must seem that our decorating process is similar. It typically takes us a week to put up the tree. But, that's because we are scheduling it around dozens of other activities. We put the tree up and string lights on it one day. The next day, we do a couple of boxes of ornaments. We continue with a box of ornaments a day until we are finished. This year, we carefully placed ornaments that had previously decorated my parents' trees. There are no garlands of tinsel on our tree. Neither are there icicles!
Music was always a huge part of Christmas for us. Back when I was in first grade, schools still put on Christmas shows. My class sang, "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas." My Mom had never heard the song before and sacrificed money to go to the local piano store and buy the sheet music. She had always wanted to play the piano, but didn't have the space or the money to get one. Instead, somewhere along the way she had acquired a plastic, tabletop organ. She would plug this thing in and pump out wheezy tunes. Every time I hear, "It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas," on the radio, I can see my Mom sitting at her organ.
Another part of the music tradition involved all of us playing our instruments at church. A church member, who was a band director at a local school, would gather an ensemble a couple months before Christmas and start rehearsing. The mix of instruments was different each year and was probably pretty terrible. We practiced the same carols every year and we would perform in the narthex on Christmas Day. For some reason, although we had been listening to the tune since we were born, not a single member of this ensemble could every play the correct rhythm for "Joy to the World." Our director would be wildly waving his arms and articulating, "Joy TO THE WORLD," while Mary Lee and I stifled our giggles and ducked from the flying spit.
Of course, music has to be a tradition that we preserve. This year, Lacey has joined chorus. So, the girls were both in holiday programs at school. They were both in the Christmas program at church too. And, this year, Cassie played her violin in the program. As I recorded the girls' numbers, I did wish that we had just one video of music performances from Christmases past!
One final tradition that I will share was our Christmas Eve trip to the firehouse in Louisville. Santa would arrive on a fire truck and hand out bags filled with fruit, nuts, and ribbon candy to the waiting kids. This was a tradition that we were eager to share with our foster brothers, Matt and Stephen. The first year they participated, their picture with Santa was on the front page of the local paper. Another year, when a few of us were teenagers, we opted to stay home from this event to be Santa's helpers. We tied ourselves up with ropes and informed Matt and Stephen that Santa had tied us up so that we wouldn't grab their presents!
Above all, I believe my parents taught us the values of family and generosity. We were always able to make space for one more person at our dinner table and my mother could always find one more gift to wrap. Maybe these are the best traditions to preserve.
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| The wise men from my parent's nativity scene grace the top of Grandma Schneider's dresser. |
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