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I recognize that this site is often dedicated to collectibles, antiques and such. But memories of family and friends are "collectibles" that we can only feel, not hold in our hands. I choose to think more about these warm and fuzzies this time of year, as many of us do. Having grown up in a "simpler time", most of my remembrances make me smile; even the ones that were embarassing or frustrating at the time have become humorous and bittersweet as time passes. A few examples follow. My sister Vicki was 7 years younger than I and 11 years younger than my brother Mike. We often picked on her, teased her and "tortured" her as only siblings can do. How she turned out to love us so much is way beyond me! I remember one Christmas eve we were all dressed up and ready to head to my grandmother's and grandfather's house. Only an hour away but always treated as a special occasion! We got in the car and were ready to go. My brother who had a very sensitive sense of smell (he would stay with friends for 2-3 days when someone got a home permanent!), asked "what's that awful smell?" None of us seemed to notice and my folks just told him to ignore it. He chose, instead, to roll down his window and breathe deeply, complaining constantly under his breath. After a while, I, too, noticed a unique smell. Sort of medicinal. He and I sniffed a lot and then honed in on my sister. By then, my folks had smelled it too and my dad pulled over to the side of the road. My mom was the one who uncovered the mystery. In those days, young ladies wore patent leather shoes on dressy occasions. In order to keep the leather soft, you would put vaseline on a tissue, and gently rub it in. Well, my sister wanted to "do it herself" and boy, did she ever. Her only mistake was using Vicks Vapo-rub instead of vaseline! We laughed about it for a long time and told her she'd never get "cold feet!" Another favorite Christmas story actually happened to a friend of my mother-in-law. She was having 5 people to dinner on Sunday. She would be going to church, then driving across town to pick up her guests. She was a widow and toyed with asking the gent next door to come too but felt it might be too forward. So instead, she just asked him if he would come in and baste the large chicken she had in the oven, just so it would not dry out for her guests. He agreed. When she returned home, she started her vegetables, potatoes and made coffee. She gave her guests a glass of wine, and then told them to sit in the dining room. Everything was perfect! Then she opened the over, and lifted the lid on the roasting pan. Inside was a teeny-tiny, shriveled "bird" - barely enough to feed one person, much less 6! She froze, then she let out a cry! The guests came running into the kitchen and she was standing there, so embarassed. Just then the doorbell rang and there stood the gent next door who had "helped her out." He had a very wide grin on his face! Turns out, he had substituted her sizeable chicken with a small cornish game hen. He had been preparing that little surprise for several days! What seemed like a tragedy, became a real hoot! Everyone laughed and she even invited the perpetrator to join them, setting one more place. That was also the start of a good friendship and he was almost always included in her guest list! I can close my eyes and almost hear her shriek - it must have been something. I have often said that nothing is funnier than real life and those two stories just prove it.
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