Christmas Eve Traditions
Special Note: Today, I dedicate this blog to my uncle George who passed away several weeks ago at age 90. He was a master story teller and quite the family historian. I’m sure he would have loved this story and could have added some details that I have long forgotten. Rest in Peace uncle George.
Merry Christmas almost. Every year on Christmas Eve, I reminisce about traditions from many years ago growing up on South Milwaukee, Wisconsin and wanted to share some of my many fond memories of Christmases past.
For my family Christmas Eve was the night of celebration, family gatherings, and a visit, or three from Santa. My memory goes like this – in the mid to late afternoon on Christmas Eve, my mom, dad, brother and two sisters would pile in the car for a very short ride to my grandmother’s (dad’s mom) house. It was located directly behind and actually connected to a little hardware store that she operated. It was more of a general store as she sold everything from nails and paint to personal hygiene products, games, and school supplies.
The store was always open, on Christmas Eve until about 5:00, or 6:00 p.m. for those last-minute shoppers that just had to buy one more gift. That is how I learned to wrap presents, or not, as I still suck at wrapping presents. Joining our family at the store were my aunt (dad’s sister) and uncle and their two children. Every now and then, my uncle (dad’s brother) and his family would join us from wherever they were living at the time, be it Houston, Pittsburgh, London, or who knows where else?
While the store was still open the celebration activities would begin. There were all sorts of appetizers, that might include: bacon wrapped mushrooms, bologna pinwheels made with horseradish cream cheese, cheese and crackers including “chicken ‘n a biscuit” crackers, and sometimes cannibal sandwiches (google it as it relates to Wisconsin). AND, the star of the show was always peel and eat shrimp. One particular Christmas sticks in my mind where my parents raved about grandma buying five pounds of shrimp for our celebration – it sounded like truckload to me and they were GOOD!
As closing time for the store approached, the adults would make a few adult beverages and the kids would enjoy some sort of soft drinks that were always available at grandma’s house. Around the same time, me and my cousin would place some milk and cookies near the door in the back hallway for Santa. We always threatened to stay in the hallway to wait and see Santa, but always chickened out. Thus, Santa would drop off a box of presents, have a few bites of his cookies, drink his milk, ring some bells and be on his way.
Filled with excitement, we would lug the box up the steps, and distribute the presents left by Santa. There were only a few presents for each because we knew that Santa would also pay visits to our home a few blocks away and my other grandmother’s house about 10 miles away. After opening our gifts, we would hang out for a while longer and eventually load up the car for the trip to our next stop.
At my mom’s mom’s house, there might be a houseful. Mom’s two brothers, her sister and their kids could fill up grandma’s little house quickly. I remember walking into the house, and it felt like a sauna because grandma had been cooking most of the day. There usually was Polish sausage, ham, maybe turkey, green beans, mashed potatoes, and a plethora of desserts, one of which was this lady finger chocolate torte thing with real whipped cream on top.
Same as the other grandma’s house, we hung out, ate, the adults may have had an adult beverage, and the kids drank sodas (Or was it pop? Back then, I used the terms interchangeably). Unlike the previous house, Santa had already been to this grandma’s house and left presents under a small tree in the living room. The younger kids (me) were always ready to open presents and probably pestered the crap out of the adults to get to that part of the evening. Amazingly, Santa usually left presents handmade by my grandmother – she knitted some of the greatest mittens and slippers. Sometimes there might be a ten-dollar bill inside.
Once we opened presents, it was my tradition to begin asking if we could go home yet. “Is it time to go home yet,” I asked, and to this day, 50 years or so later, a few of my cousins still ask me if it is time to go home yet. Yep, it was time to pile in the car again and go home.
Upon our arrival at our home, we would discover that Santa had indeed made a visit to our house and left a few more presents for our family members. We took turns opening presents and in later years began a name exchange so each of us didn’t have to buy presents for everyone in the family which would have proven costly. We would then hang out at home, play with toys, games, or a friggin’ wood burning set that Santa brought me, but I think he really meant it for my mom because she liked it much more than me.
Some years, we would stay up late only to pile into the car again for a two-block drive down to St. Adalbert’s Catholic Church for Midnight Mass. I thought going to church at midnight was pretty cool as it was way past my bedtime and the choir was there in their best tune singing Polish Christmas Carols in Polish. I didn’t understand the language, and because of that it had a special singsong to it that is burned in my memory to this day. After church, we would greet some friends, neighbors, and relatives in the church’s vestibule and then load up the car for the short trip home.
Once we were home again, we might stay up for just a bit to reassess the Christmas gift haul we had each made. Then it was off to bed with visions of more festivities, turkeys, ham, Polish sausage, and desserts that would be enjoyed the next day when we did all of the visiting all over again sans the presents. Regardless, Christmas day was always a special time for family and friends.
That’s how I remember it. I look forward to my siblings and cousins filling in a few gaps, but that is how I remember it. With that, I say Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!