December 1st reminded me of the Advent Calendar Dad used to give me and so I tweeted about it. @joannayoung replied ‘What a lovely memory’. Which got me thinking. I ought to write a post about this and Christmases past. The Advent Calendar Daddy gave me came with shiny, new dimes behind the door of every day of the month. Now they make the calendars with milk chocolate surprises. Trust me, the dimes were better.
I was spoiled at Christmas. I remember how proud I was of the reindeer and Santa’s sleigh filled with presents that perched on our rooftop, all hand-made by Dad. Nobody else in town had such a beautiful display.
I had gifts-a-plenty. There was the baby-doll that cried when you gave it a bottle. And Teddy who got a haircut when I did. Oh how I cried when his shorn hair did not grow back like mine did. Then the ballerina doll with the beautiful tutu and pink toe shoes. And how I loved the doll-house with the miniature furniture. Oh, and the mini cooking set, just like Mom’s real thing.
As I grew a little older, Christmas morning brought me cut-out dolls, Lennon Sisters of course. How many hours did I play with them. And the Nancy Drew books, the roller skates with the key and the white ice skates that your ankles buckled over in on the pond.
Every Christmas Eve I set out homemade cookies and milk for Santa and shorenuf, they were gone Christmas morning, proof positive of the existence of Mr. Claus. Never mind what the little girls at Catholic school said about Baby Jesus delivering gifts. Pooh ! What did they know?!
I miss you Mommy and Daddy ! Christmas always brings back the bittersweet memories of Christmas’s past.