Soapbox

Ok, quick- what was happening 30 years ago today? No fair reading ahead: think January 26th 1978?
I was matching socks this morning and Ted was reading the paper when he
remarked, "Why is the Blizzard of ’78 rating front page, above-the-fold
coverage in the paper today?"
"Because… it was 30 years ago? Today?" I guessed.
"Even so…" he said, and I agreed. Slow news day, probably.

Then I read the story, and I have to admit, I never realized what a BIG deal it was! I was safely holed up in my dormitory, and I remember they canceled classes at OU for the first time since Kent State. My mother trekked to campus the next day to bring me snow boots, (the only women’s size 8 left in town, she informed me) dry-roasted peanuts and NyQuil. (I had a cold) Later I followed the train tracks home and got myself a snow shovel and cleared a path from Brown Hall to Nelson Commons, and so was a very popular girl that day. We had fun in all that lovely snow, (I seem to recall stories of some massive snowball fights, and of course sledding down Jeff Hill) which was unusual for Athens. But what was the big deal? My friends and I all thought it was a bit of an adventure, nothing more. Ted remembers it pretty much the same way.
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Another Christmas season has finally ground its way to the finish. (I don’t consider Christmas done until "Old Christmas"- Epiphany) The tree is undecorated at last, thank you notes have been written, school is back in session and I’m more than ready to say goodbye to it for another year .

Before the kids came along I was a nurse, so I was always working either Christmas eve or Christmas day, which was a bit of a drag and cut down on holiday visits with family. At first that was tough but after a while, more secure and entrenched in my own new family, I didn’t feel the need to be en masse every holiday.
When Stephen was a year old, Ted and I decided that from then until further notice, Christmas for us would always be at our house. Anyone who wanted to visit was welcome and we would travel wherever before or after, but Christmas eve we spend in our own beds. Julie used to come for a few years- she liked having little kids to spend Christmas with and they adored her. For a few years the family got together later, around Epiphany and did the whole holiday thing: ate too much, played games, exchanged gifts, admired each other’s children, etc. but after a while that got to be too much work too.

Still, Christmas used to be such fun, even though it was a lot of work. I would decorate the house and collect for charities and bake for the neighbors and as choir director I ran the Christmas eve service, so I was always full of "Christmas spirit" as it were. I have some lovely memories of those years- Stephen’s first letter to Santa at age 4 "Dear Santa- I love you. Mary Crismis." ; the Christmas plays Steve and Katie would put on for us, complete with paper Santa beard for him and paper antlers for her; the night Stephen put cookies out for Santa and 10 minutes later we found them gone- I looked accusingly at Ted, he glared at me- and then the dog sauntered by. And of course, all the bizarre, mis-shapen, achingly beautiful little things the kids made me for gifts that I still have tucked away somewhere. (I once made my mom a clay turtle for Christmas in 3rd grade- I bet she still has it.)
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