Christmas morning at your house?

Christmas morning was very different for me when I was a kid. My parents were the first generation since their families immigrated to Ohio in the early 19th century to leave the state. We were the first kids to grow up far from the farm, and the extended family. So, grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles all sent boxes of presents. Some of them were great, some of them were lame, but all of them were wrapped and put under the tree until Christmas morning. And then there was Santa, and the gifts from Mom and Dad. And the gifts FOR Mom and Dad. By Christmas morning there were so many gifts under and around the tree, the pile seemed to take up the whole room.

My mother made a production out of everything on Christmas morning. We weren't allowed to leave our rooms until we were called. I remember sitting in my doorway talking to my brother sitting in his doorway. Each of us craned our neck to see out into the living room and catch a glimpse of what Santa might have left. My mother would go out and turn on the tree, start coffee brewing, and maybe put the kettle on for cocoa. Once my dad had the Christmas music playing on the HiFi, we were called out. Oh, the joy of seeing that HUGE glittering pile.

Then the torment began. Ooh, Mom was good. First, the stockings. One at a time. My brother would dump his on the floor and take it all in at once. Candy, nuts, some fruit, socks, pencils, toothbrush, and one "big" thing, usually a watch. As I got older, I delighted in torturing him by pulling each item out of the stocking and admiring it before going in for the next. When the stockings were emptied, and re-stuffed, we started in on the gifts. Again, one at a time. Everyone watched as we opened each gift.

At the time, I thought my mother was crazy, and maybe you're wondering at her sanity, yourself. Now, I see that those Christmases were hard on my parents. They were far from their parents and grandparents. All those aunts and uncles and cousins who had sent gifts had been with them every Christmas of their lives. It was surreal for them to be sitting around a tree with just the four of us. Opening gifts one at a time made the morning last a little longer, filled a little more of the day. Watching each other open each gift made us stop and focus on the giver and the receiver of the gift for just a moment.

As an adult, I moved back to the land of my extended family. A year and a half ago, my parents came back, too. Our family is within a couple hours' drive of all the grandparents. We split Christmas three ways. Mother-in-law and her husband took a few hours to bestow gifts on the kids yesterday. Father-in-law and his wife, along with my sister-in-law and her family, will be here most of the day Saturday so we can exchange gifts and share a meal. Christmas morning, the kids will wake up in their own beds and come down to see what Santa brought. I'll probably make them stay in their rooms until I call them. I mean, I might as well get the coffee brewing, right?

When the excitement is over, we'll head to my Mom and Dad's for a huge extended family Christmas. Santa makes a delivery at Grandma's house, too. They'll still open their gifts one at a time. I just can't seem to give up savoring those moments.