Christmas morning, 1991. Non and Dant's trailer house on a
trucking yard in the oilfields of west Texas. Light from the early dawn tinted
the eastern sky a soft golden hue as Mom, Dad, and I -- bundled up in the new
clothes and jackets we'd opened earlier to the music of Bobby Helms -- pulled into
my grandparent's carport. The rosebushes that lined the carport, twining up the
trellis and over the top of the makeshift garage were sleeping for the winter,
but I knew in my nine-year-old mind that they would be back, blooming bright
and beautiful before school was over for the year. After all, every May my
grandma, Non, let my cousin and I choose a rose to cut and take to our
teachers. The pump jacks squeaked and moaned in the field across the street and
a lone longhorn-- one of the wild ones that would never let me pet it -- mooed
an echoing moo while we carried in armloads of presents.
"By God, it sure took you long enough to get out
here," my grandpa, Dant, would say to Dad. Dad's reply was, without fail,
"Well I didn't want to come too early and wake you up, you need all the
beauty sleep you can get!" Dant, dressed in socks, a white tee-shirt and
blue jeans complete with Skoal ring, would just duck his head and smile before
giving Dad a hug and saying, "Well you know I was up at 4 am today."
Dad joshed back, "Well I was up at 3:30!" Always 30 minutes earlier
than Dant! It was all just for show though. Everybody knew I was
always the first one up on Christmas morning!
Non, busy in the kitchen, was all smiles as she asked Mom to
check the fat, fluffy biscuits in the oven while she tended to the sausage
patties frying in her old cast iron skillet. Breakfast in the country. Now I
have never liked sausage, but there was something about Non's Christmas sausage
and biscuits that was simply irresistible to me.
After breakfast, my cousin China and her mom, my Aunt
Jay arrived, bearing their armloads of gifts. While China and I sorted out
presents, the adults sat around talking and nibbling at what was left of our
annual Christmas breakfast.
After the insurmountable task of present sorting was
completed, China and I were on pins and needles waiting for the go head to
dig in and rip some paper! Dant would sit nonchalantly in his easy chair, the
feet up, one hand on the remote. "In two minutes, we'll start opening
presents." We would squeal and "get ready." Two minutes later,
he'd flick stations on the old tv set ... "Uh oh," he'd say,
"That last minute wasn't any good, it was rotten. Gotta wait one more
minute." Again, we'd squeal and pick which present we were going to open
first, then change our minds and pick another. When our attention has been
changed from opening to picking presents to open, Dant would bellow,
"Go!" Out of all of us there, I think we all enjoyed our silly
traditions, but no one more than Non and Dant.
Once the presents were opened, the trash was picked up,
thank you's were thanked, and everyone was exhausted, we would load up our
goodies and head home to cook (and nap), because we were due back out at Non
and Dant's around 1 or 2 to eat a gigantic potluck lunch/dinner featuring Mom's
delectable broccoli rice casserole, Dant's ham, Aunt Jay and China's green bean
casserole and baked macaroni, and scores of other yummies.
Then, with it being Christmas in west Texas, China and I donned
our light jackets and went out on the yard to play! After all, the
temperature was usually about 59 degrees!
Sara's book A Heart on Hold is available through 5 Prince Publishing. Her book A Heart Broken will launch in 2013 as well as her children's book Chunky Sugars.
Another unique family gathering, Sara. Those create the best memories!
ReplyDeleteHope the kids are as good as new.
Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Doug