The Ghost of Christmas Past

-

We aren’t really going to recognize Christmas this year.

No large get-together on the horizon. 

We’re thinking there will be four here on Christmas Eve and maybe five (if everything breaks right) on Christmas Day.

Made me think of celebrations in days of yore.

As a kid it was all about Grandma and Grandpa Fuzzy’s house. We’d pack in the car and make the short drive. 

We were fired up and in a word it was about the pizza.

Grandma made it all from scratch - could’ve been straight from Italy - I was partial to the anchovy and onion version.

Wasn’t just the pizza though the little house on Spruce would be packed before too long. 

Cousins, aunts and uncles. Drinks would flow. A lot of hugs and kisses and loud talking and laughter. 

We’d all go to Grandpa straight away. He’d give a kiss and pass along a message. If our hair was too long (and everyone’s hair was considered long) he’d ask “where’d you go after you got your haircut?”

We’d head across the road to say ‘hi’ to Aunt Rosalie and Uncle Herb. Hang with cousin Paulie or Joe or Carol.

We’d stick around until we’d head off to Midnight Mass.

In later years, the party moved to the big house on the hill. 

We’d all bring food. Corinne and Chuck (mostly Chuck) got the pizza recipe down and I was eating the anchovy and onion pizza of the past.

The gifts were a mountain on the pool table and we’d have a few, and laugh and talk loud.

Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra playing in the background.

What stinks about this year is that we were getting into a new routine following some earth-shattering losses.

And now here we are:

20-Mother-****ing-20!

Wondering how we are going to bring the laughter.

The government appears to be on fire.

People are sick and really hurting.

Immeasurable loss all around.

I’ll cook this year. 

I’m intent on making sure that those who are with me will laugh and love and eat.

We know the meaning of Christmas.

We’ll bask in it.

Merry Christmas 🎄🎁 to all.

Enjoy your time with family and friends.

Be safe.

Thank the Lord.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Suits

-
Like a lot of other people we got pulled into the series, ‘Suits’ on Netflix. I’ve never had much fun hanging around lawyers who have questioned me as a construction safety officer. I once testified in a case where the opposing lawyer started questioning me by going through my educational background. “So,” he said, racing to a crescendo, “You graduated from college with a degree in Communications-Journalism and suddenly, 30 years later, you’re a ‘safety expert.’” He actually made the quotation marks with his fingers. I just looked at him. “How does that happen?” He bellowed, sure that he was going to discredit me. “Well,” I said. “I knew I was overqualified to become a lawyer.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. Even the judge chuckled. The rest of his questions landed flat. So, I wasn’t all that keen on a show about lawyers, but ‘Suits’ is great. Meghan Markle became a princess because of the show, and she is very good in it (and a beautiful woman). Yet, there is so much more. The wri
Read more

My Buddy, Dave

-
Way back in 1997, I started working with a steel erection company out of Syracuse. I was coming straight from a long stint with a steel erector here in Buffalo so I knew my stuff when it came to steel erection safety rules. On day one, I met with the safety director and he was just getting started as a safety guy, but man, he certainly cared about the guys he worked with. Dave was a good man from the start. He’d say things like: “You’re so full of beans.” Just a down to earth, hardworking guy who became a fast friend. We drove all around New York State setting up jobs. I always let Dave drive so that I could rest. One fine day, way up North of Syracuse, we passed a state trooper.  I glanced at the speedometer. “You’re screwed,” I said, and seconds later, the lights came on. Dave was beside himself.  The cop stopped by the window, grabbed the license and registration and headed back to his vehicle. “Here’s the thing,” I said. “You’re pissed, but you’re such a good guy that I bet you tha
Read more

Mom & Ollie

-
Image
 Ollie Stadium is a mess. The heavy rains rendered the backyard a mud pit and even though we threw in the side yard, the Big O was looking for more, and we were both covered in mud. I had to take some steam out of him somehow so I suggested we go visit Grandma. Ollie hates the car, but he laid quietly as we made the trip. We even brought the football because there is plenty of room to play at Grandma’s. Mom opened the door and started laughing. I thought about the love she had for every single dog we ever had. Oliver was quick to give my Mom a kiss, and then he stood beside her. The love between Mom and Dogs is a mutual bond. Through the years, Mom would make breakfast for the dogs.  Fried eggs, toast, bacon… She would wrap Christmas gifts for them. “To Jeter, Love Santa,” she would write on the cards. They played with the big chicken that made a lot of noise. Mom tossed the football and Ollie brought it back to her. As the visit drew to a close I headed for the door.  “C’mon, Oliver,”
Read more