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NotyNots's blog: "Memories"

created on 12/12/2008  |  http://fubar.com/memories/b265172
After spending several years in Washington state and the adoption of my son Frank at age nine. I was offered a higher paid job with a leading company in the Indiana. I couldn’t say no. It was a decision that I thought would be a benefit to both of us to actually move on and start to a better life. Packing wasn’t as hard as I thought putting stuff into boxes. The battered rental trailer was a different story. Hooked to my old beat up Ford mini truck, the two of us started to load the trailer first. All the biggest stuff into it our couch, beds, dressers and washer, dryer set. Every nook and cubby hold we could find left over in that battered trailer we filled with items. The back end of the truck we piled boxes nothing was to be left behind. My son, Frank made absolutely sure even to the point of collecting our little pine tree that had grew to an amazing 3 foot now. During the summer Frank had removed it from the little pot it was in and put it into a bigger yard pot. The pot made me smile every time I look at it. Now the poor thing sat in the bed of the truck sticking out of the tarp that we tied down over the boxes. I tried to get Frank to leave it with the new owners but he wasn’t in agreement. He said the tree was our family as much as him and I were. I asked him about our dog Uno. And his answer was “Well Uno is family no matter what. Just like Alphy.” I asked who was Alphy and found out that was the name he gave to the pine tree. So of course since Frank had named the little, not so little pine tree we had to take “Alphy” with us. So with the truck packed and Uno in the back seat compartment of my mini truck and Frank in the passenger seat all buckled up, I took one last look of our home for the pass two years and put the truck into gear leaving the past behind. We just celebrated Frank’s 11th birthday a month before so he got to say his goodbyes to classmates and friends. As I had done with my fellow co workers and friends. Promising to exchange Christmas cards during the upcoming holiday. Then it hit me Christmas was a month away. I had some money left from taking care of things and getting a new home so I figured I would be able to give Frank a wonderful Christmas since the first one we spent together. So with a cashiers check, for half the down on our old home and a pocketful of dreams ad hope for our future and faith sealed tightly in my heart. I drove down the road towards the freeway. It was a little over three days when we arrived in Indiana. Traveling to the little town of Butler we soon found our new home out on a country road. We spent a few months finding just the right one. This one a old barn turned into a house , the old loft remodeled into three bedrooms with staircase on both side and under the loft was the big open kitchen there was a fireplace and opposite of it across the front room was a sliding glass door leading out to a patio that lead to the backyard. Some backyard three acres of land. There was walnut trees, apple trees, cherry trees. Some maples, and elms along the fence line. The house painted red and white was truly beautiful with the white picket fence that lined each side yard and the front yard. Driving up the mailbox was made to look like the house. We piled out of the truck and stood there looking. “Mom is this really our house?” Frank asked me. Sighing I took in a deep breath “Yes it is including the mortgage,” I smiled. We spent the afternoon unloading everything and putting it into the front room. Looking at my watch I noticed it was almost six o’clock and neither of us ate since we stopped for breakfast. Couldn’t locate the kitchen ware and really didn’t have groceries yet, so we unhooked that battered up rental trailer and drove into town and found a nice little place that swore of good home cooked meals. What we both learned was that the cooks were Amish and the food was truly home cooked. And was beyond good. With filled tummys and warm hearts we paid our bill and left. Frank suggested that we walk around town and explore it. For a small town the people were friendly and open. We finished exploring and went to the grocery store and got supplies and headed home. On the ride home we saw many homes had already starting to decorate for Christmas. It was then that Frank voiced his concerns. “Mom,” he paused and I waited looking at his face and seeing the dogged look. “Is Santa real? Since we moved will he be able to find us? Do you believe in him Mom?” I pulled over to the side of the road and wrapped my arms around Frank. Frank always believed still does even though he is grown man now. Like his mother I never gave up in the miracles of the season. So with painstaking care I spoke, “Frank,” I softly spoke, “We moved sure, but even if he cant find us we always have each other and we will decorate Alphy and sing songs and make cookies. And we will give to each other as we always do. We will share in making our home festive and ourselves cheerful. And yes my darling I believe truly that Santa is very real. After all remember he brought you to me a few Christmas back,” I smiled and the tears rolled down my face onto the top of his head. “Mom you okay?” “Yes,” I wiped the tears and started the truck up and moved off to the road home. It was dark but when I pulled into the driveway and was blasted with a bright security light. Frank stirred and opened the door and got out. He was less talkive then normal. We went into the house and turned on lights and after putting away the food stuff we bought. We headed off to the front room and started to unpacked things. I made mental note next move if we moved again we would mark the boxes to the assigned areas of the house. Beside the noticeable objects couch, beds, dressers and washer, dryer set I had no clue what was in what box. We opted to sleep downstairs but couldn’t find our sheets or blankets. For the first time in awhile Frank spoke with excitement. “Mom, look what I found!” came his voice. Looking over piles of boxes he sat among all our boxes of Christmas decorations and I thought why not. So I sat down by him and looked into box after box until I found what I wanted a old Christmas card wreath. Frank spoke up, “Mom is that?” “Yes my darling. It is.” “Can we put up a few decorations mom? “Umm well it is late, but I guess we can put up a few of our paper ones.” “Thanks mom,” he hugged me and drove into boxes retrieving paper decorations we had made. Soon we had plastered the walls with our handmade decorations. Stumbling over a yet another box I opened it to find more decorations. And in the middle of the decorations was the one thing that brought back all my childhood Christmas’s. The little cheap Naivety set and the barn my brother Don had made all those many years ago. Tenderly I pulled it out of the box and walked over to the fireplace and set it on the mantel. Frank hugged me and said, “Mom you can water entire rainforest with your tears.” Laughing I hugged him back, “You think?” “For sure mom.” We just stood there and looked at that little Naivety set. Yes Santa is very real within all of us, in our hearts and in the deeds we choose to do in life towards others. That night I slept knowing Santa would find us no matter where we lived.
My first husband and I were married rather young and settled on a nice life. Then tragic took him from me. A year or so later I was lucky to have met another man and after dating eight months we were married. For six years we tried to have a child without luck. Right after thanksgiving I was tested only to be told I would never be able to have children. We were not to be disappointed we looked into other methods. Most too costly although we both had comfortable jobs. So we went on with our lives. But time wore on and he wanted children so we separated. Of course he met another woman who had three boys of her own and was fully capable of reproduction so he filed the final papers. Pushing back my reddish brown hair behind my ears, I look at the papers sitting on the table among the Christmas cards that I purchased. Tears welled up as I look the final papers and the cards. What the hell was the point? I felt empty and incomplete and lonely. He was about to start over and get everything he wanted. While I had the kitchen table with the final papers and some Christmas cards waiting for me to sign them and stuff them into waiting colorful envelopes. I really felt like I had nothing in my life. Only work and home to an empty house. I thought about just skipping that holiday. I looked at the tree that I pulled out of the shed and all the old fading boxes holding Christmas decorations. Maybe I should of just put them back into the shed I thought blowing my nose into a paper towel. After all, isn’t Christmas suppose to be about sharing and togetherness? I didn’t even want to attend my works Christmas party. Looking over at the black slim line floor length dress, tears flowed again. What was the use? I thought picking up the dress and throwing it into the closet slamming the door. I was faced with looking at myself in the mirror, there I stood wearing a white t-shirt with one of his long sleeves white shirts wearing bobby socks. Eyes puffy and red nose… hell I could of lead Santa’s sled. My thoughts of self pity were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Thumping across the floor in my socks I called out to whoever was out there hello can I help you? But no answer came forth so I put the chain on and opened the door a crack. Hearing the TV playing “It’s A wonderful Life” I thought to myself that I wasn’t going to help any angel get their wings this season. Disgusted at myself and at my life at the moment I looked out the door onto the front porch, but no one stood there. I was about to shut the door when I looked down and there was a box along with a small potted pine tree and one of those paper bag presents with a bright red bow. Carefully I opened the door and retrieved the box looking out onto the street but saw nothing, no one. Carrying the box to the kitchen I began to inspected it fearing that someone had made a huge mistake that it must have been meant for someone in need. Placing the box on the table I gingerly picked out the small potted pine tree and saw that it was actually decorated. I sat the tree down and looked into the box the paper bag present had a card on it. So I opened it to see who the gift was to go to and on it was my name. I sat down or rather fell back into my chair. What was this someone’s joke on me? I looked into the bag that was light in weight and saw a lot of red and white tissue paper so I took it out. One piece at a time trying to flatten out the crinkles and folds it had acquired being shoved into the bag. An old habit to recycle Christmas paper to be used again. After pulling out about twenty sheets I didn’t find a gift but instead I found a card. From one of the children at the local children’s shelter. I sat back and read the letter. Dear Ms. Bleau, I have no parents and no home and will be staying here at the shelter with a couple others who weren’t picked to spend Christmas with families. I not asking much for myself I am eight years old and I am okay with staying here, but Sara is only four and jack is almost five all they can talk about is Santa. And I know the shelter doesn’t have the money to get a tree or presents. I am just asking if you can help them I have a little money saved up for collecting pop cans if you need help. Your friend, Frank Long All I could do was sit there and stare at that letter, then an idea hit me. Running to the closet I retrieved that silly dress and put it one through on some nylons and heels and pinned up my hair. I walked back into the kitchen and collected the unsigned Christmas cards and signed the final papers. I locked up everything and jumped into my car and drove to my ex’s new home and rang the doorbell. The look on his face was priceless as I handed him the papers and wished him and his new fiancé a very merry Christmas. And jumped back into my car and went to my works Christmas party. Walking up to the office of partiers of 25 people I stood there and in a loud voice I told the about these children then I handed out the Christmas cards I held in the clutches of one hand. I asked people to put in a little money what ever they could spare and hand them back to me before I left the party. Surprisingly enough by the end of the night I had collected almost $350 and some change. The next day was a Saturday so I went to the mall and bought gifts appropriate for the ages of the children. Then I hunted down a tree as it was already the 22nd the pickings for a tree were slim at best. But I did managed to find a small five foot tree. Kind of reminded me of the Charlie Brown Christmas story and I laughed the sales man must of thought I totally lost it. With packages brightly wrapped and tree on top of the car I headed off to the 5 and Dime store to purchase decorations and lights. My next stop was to the grocery store to get a ham and trimmings for a real Christmas dinner. I took the cards everyone signed and made a wreath from them and a decoration the kids could look at and to know their benefactors. Since I had off until the 3rd of January I decided my Christmas eve was going to be spent with those children. Having made arrangements with the administers of the shelter bright and early Monday morning I drove over to the shelter making sure to keep the presents from Santa in my trunk of my car I arrived and stopped at the front door of the shelter and was greeted by Mr. Caster along with Frank, Sara and Jack in tow. I let the younger two unload the back seat of my car, while Mr. Caster took the groceries from the front seat of my car. I asked Frank to help me with the tree. He was eager to prove he was older than his eight years. We got the tree into the house and Mr. Caster helped the kids set up the tree and the five of us proceeded to the kitchen and started the simple kitchen dinner of ham, roasted potatoes, corn and rolls from a can. And a cake decorated with a Christmas tree. Once dinner was in the oven cooking it was time to tend to the tree. Frank and Mr. Caster had placed it into the tree holder earlier and the bottom branches spread down and out. It was ready to put the decorations on and as Frank in his all so grown up eight year voice stated lights must go on first. I brought two boxes of the multi color mini lights. Each string had 100 lights I thought that might be a bit much for a small tree but around the tree the kids took them and with Mr. Caster’s help to get them to the top of the tree. All was left were the glass ornaments, ten boxes of them. Different colors and shapes. One special box I had held back until the last minute after all the brightly color wrapped gifts were placed under the tree. I placed the box on the floor in front of the kids. Frank looked at the long white box and asked what it was. “It is a train named the Santa express. I figured that you could put it together to go around the bottom of the tree.,” I answered. The overwhelming delight of chatter went on for another hour. Soon the tree was done and table was set and dinner was ready to eat. We all worked together to place the meal on the table and stood back and looked at the table in admiration of the feast that sat upon it. Each of us took a seat and Frank wouldn’t let us eat until he said we said a prayer. “God, thank you for bringing Ms. Bleau into our life and making this a wonderful day,” stated Mr. Caster. But it was Frank that surprised us with his additional prayer. “Yeah she gave us a great Christmas and I am always going to remember this day. Thank you Ms. Bleau.” The other two children chimed in a thank you. I just had to add my prayer as well, “I wanted to thank God too for a special gift left on my doorstep that lead me to Frank, Sara, and Jack. And of course Mr. Caster too. Amen.” Then we set about eating the wonderful meal we all helped to make. After the wonderful meal, I gave each of the children new pj’s and they headed off to take a bath and put them on while Mr. Caster and myself did up the dishes. Cutting a piece of cake for each of the kids and ourselves I pulled out one last thing out of my hand bag. One of my all time favorite Christmas stories. “Twas The Night Before Christmas” the children gathered with their cake at my feet and listened while I read the story. After the story they had heavy eyes I knew that they would sleep well and their dreams would be filled of Santa’s visit later that night. Mr. Caster sense that as well and took the kids off to bed to tuck them in. And I went to my car and got the four gifts from Santa to place under the tree. A set of cars for Jack, a baby doll for Sara, model airplane for Frank and for Mr. Caster a check. My Christmas bonus of $1800. Heck I wasn’t going to use it anyway but to spoil myself and I think I managed to do that fairly well that Christmas. But the following Christmas turned out to be my biggest spoil to myself I adopted Frank, who has grown into a fine man. And is setting off to start a family of his own, but still remembers to call Mom and say I love you.
My parents hardworking couple always did their best to provide me and my brothers and sisters with memorable holidays. Starting in October, Pop would shrimp from early morning to dinner time come home eat and then he go to the wood mill and work another eight or so hours to make sure that each of six boys and five girls got wonderful gifts under the handpicked tree. We hardly saw Pop, covered in sawdust and smelling somewhat of saltwater he would drag into the house about midnight only to get a shower and crawl into bed for four hours of sleep before getting up and doing it all again. Mom was a wonder woman in her day. She be up before Pop to make him a breakfast and lunch. Then she would prepare breakfast for us kids and pack us up with school lunches. She managed to stretch money to be sure we were well feed. It wasn’t until we were older with our own children did we find out Mom hardly took the time to herself. The new pairs of pj’s and nightgowns we found under the tree were all hand sown by Mom with much love and details. My parents emphasized love of giving and cherishing family above all else. Mom always made sure when we got home we would have a snack and do our homework while she worked on dinner. After dinner we had chores to do the boys tend to details of our small farm and the girls tending to the dishes. Soon afterwards Pop would leave for the job at the wood mill and we kids would work on handmade ornaments to decorate our towering tree. Pop worked everyday, except Saturday night and Sunday. Perhaps to catch up on sleep. But each Sunday he as with the rest of his large brood attend church. At noon we would have a meal and welcome any guests that dropped in. Which was often considering the community was close as family. Sundays were spent with talk, laughter and if weather provided horseshoes. Or any other viable games kids could come up with. By nightfall we were in house and bathing in one of the three bathrooms Pop had built. My fondest memory is one week before Christmas day. Not only was it so close to Christmas and excitement rose from us children but I think Pop and Mom were just excided. But we kids had school vacation until after New Year. But Pop had stopped shrimping and work somewhat normal hours at the wood mill. But the best thing was hearing Mom gathering up items around the kitchen . Cookie sheets, racks, bowls, cookie cutters and a huge wooden rolling pin I have inherited. The house smelled of molasses, cinnamon and brown sugar. The main counter which was an old wooden table Pop built for her to use as a cooking area was lined with flour, eggs, cream and home churned butter. More baking pans and bread pans. Candied fruits and nuts of many kids. And chocolate aroma rose from the double pan that sat on the stove under the lowest temperature Mom could manage. Well the oven sat lit at a even temperature. All of us kids had something to do to help decorate up for the coming Christmas and the reliable visit from St. Nick. My two older brothers and two youngest sisters decorated the tree the others would help Mom assemble a ginger bread house and make Christmas cookies by the dozens and candies that went into soft boxes Mom made to give out to friends and people at the nursing home. My self and my brother Donny we decorated the walls and fireplace up with pictures drawn at school and home. Stocking even though Mom got at the local 5 and Dime Store were are wondrous treasures of artworks. Each bearing our names. Mom, Pop, Mike, Pat, John, Joe, myself, Don, Petra, Lynn , Anne, and Susan and our youngest brother Jamie. Don loved the Naivety set even though it was just a cheap little one consisting of two sheep, a cow, a donkey, the three wise men and baby Jesus and of course Mary and Joseph. Don made them a barn that he made of twigs he collected to make it look like a barn. And straw he grabbed from the cow’s feed. We would work all day on it. Making everything just right for St. Nick. Then after every soft boxed was filled we would put them in gift boxes with canned goods. Then Mom would make sure we were all bundled up in coats while Pop packed up the truck with the gift boxes. After us kids were loaded into the station wagon we would follow behind Pop who had the two oldest boys with him. Off to neighbors we would drop off a box of holding food and each containing a soft box of cookies and candies wrapped in wax paper. The biggest joy was going to the nursing home and dropping off several soft boxes. We spend a couple hours singing and talking to the elderly folks. Not one of us kids walked away with the feeling of being bored or thinking it was a dumb thing to do. For we knew that with the smallest deeds of time, kindness and love we would be rewarded. Our reward wasn’t the toys that we got from St. Nick, but the good feeling when we handed out Mom’s soft boxes filled with the cookies and candies we kids had made. The look of enjoyment in the eyes of people that we gave the goodies to was that they were not forgotten this one time of the year. The years came and I grew up and had a son of my own, I continued the tradition. And the Christmas before my parents had passed on we all gathered together again. We recalled the soft boxes and the goodies and all the stories associated to our childhoods. We smiled and laugh and talked until one by one all went to bed except Mom and myself. Looking at the overflowing Christmas tree that was artificial now I noticed that little cheap Naivety set and the still surviving barn lacking the hay. Mom put an arm around my waist and I hugged her back. I couldn’t help but wonder so I asked her, “Mom why do you keep that old thing?” Her answer was simple as those long days behind, “It is to remember the simple joy of Christmas and the fulfillment we can bring to others if only we remember to give from our hearts,” she whispered softly.
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