Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

I hope this finds you well and enjoying this festive holiday season. Below you will find my musings on my childhood Christmases and a Season’s Greeting for this year.

My childhood Christmases were fun. One of the most special aspects of Christmas was that my dad had the day of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off! He worked all the time so when he had a few days off, we girls were thrilled. On Christmas eve, dad sang Italian love songs for us. And he had a lovely voice! He’d play records that he had brought over from Sicily and he and my mom would dance the Tarantella, a Southern Italian dance. First we’d move the furniture so they could let loose! We girls stood around them and clapped and laughed with delight.  We watched as mom and dad twirled and floated across the floor. Their feet moved swiftly. How we loved to watch them dance. They looked like movie stars! My dad would then dance with each of us girls. When it was my turn to dance, I would follow dad’s lead. I’d tap, swirl and twirl, and fly with my dad until I was sure I had entered a dream land. In case you don’t know the Tarantella, here is the LINK.

Singing and Dancing were followed by Midnight Mass. The dancing helped keep me awake. I think Midnight Mass began at 11:30pm on Christmas Eve. Maybe it started earlier or later. I remember the church was packed and the priest, instead of delighting in all who showed up for Midnight Mass, would make an unpleasant comment about the parishioners who only came to mass on Christmas and Easter and not the rest of the year.

During Midnight Mass, I often had to stand because the church elders got seating priority. There were never enough pews for everyone, so I stood among many other standing adults. As I stood, my head reached people’s elbows. I was always nervous that I would lose sight of my family. Though it never happened, I was always afraid of being separated from the safety of my family during the crowded Christmas mass. I still remember the press of wool coats around me (keeping me warm) and the occasional knock of an elbow against my head (keeping me awake).

We finally got to open presents when we got home from mass. My parents didn’t have much money to lavish us girls with gifts, but what little we did receive became our treasures. My parents often told us that, though we didn’t have much money, we had a lot more than most people because we had things that money couldn’t buy.

I love the photo below. Toni in her light blue dress and Nora are standing. Toni is admiring the gifts she has just opened. It is not a clear photo so I can’t see what is in her hands, but she is happy. And Nora is hugging a great big blue Teddy Bear.  Long-legged Zina in her red slacks, Francy in her pajamas, and Jeanie in her red blouse have all been gifted footwear. Mine are gold slippers with faux-fur fringe. I still remember those Gold Slippers. My mother called slippers Slip-a Shoes. Oh, how I loved my Gold Slip-a Shoes!

And check out the plastic covered sofa. My mom covered everything in plastic, from tables & table cloths to chairs & sofas. This was done to make household items last. When my mom died, we removed the plastic and found the furniture looking brand new and unused.

On Christmas Day, we were allowed to sleep in! We were also allowed to wear our pajamas all morning. My parents made phone calls to Sicily, Canada, England, and Belgium to talk to relatives. I remember when they called my grandmother and other relatives in Sicily, they talked really LOUD on the phone. They shouted, MAMMA! VUSIA, COMU E? “Mom, how are you?,” they would SHOUT over the phone receiver. You see, my parents thought loud voices were necessary to be heard over the immense physical distance between Sicily and America.

After the phone calls, Nora would turn on the radio and we’d listen to the Top 40 Hits. Of course, we’d sing along. Meanwhile, mom busily prepared a feast. She had woken up early to start the bread dough. And amid the singing, we girls were assigned to be mom’s sous chefs. She made us wear hair nets in the kitchen. Just so long as no one saw us, we complied to this rule. She gave us the hard chores of chopping onions, peeling garlic, peeling potatoes and carrots, and washing the many pots and pans she used in the kitchen. I kept a pair of sunglasses in the kitchen for chopping onions. I don’t know why this job seemed to always land on me, but wearing the sunglasses helped my eyes from onion-stinging. What a sight: pajamas, hair net, dark sunglasses in the dead of winter, slicing away at onions, singing the Beatles hit Yesterday in chorus with my sisters.

Mom cooked and cooked. The holiday preparations started days in advance. On Christmas day, she made bread, cooked the homemade Italian sausage that she and my dad had made the previous day. She prepared a variety of dishes to feed the army of relatives arriving later on.  Dad often had to clear snow from the driveway and sidewalk. Had rabbits to feed and tended to his small covered glass hot-house, where he miraculously grew chard and kale all winter long, in the frigid Indiana winter.

And then, after getting dressed, we’d anxiously await the arrival of our two aunts, uncle, and a heap of cousins! The feasting would last all afternoon and evening. We drank wine. Dad diluted mine with water or 7-up. We ate with gusto. We danced and we sang. We ate some more. The adults told stories of “the old country”. Mom told funny stories, stories which required her to get up and pantomime. She was hilarious! These are memories I will never forget.

And there is the present time.

It’s been a long couple of years. This past year was emotionally challenging with the loss of my sister Toni to COVID-19. The past year was also life-changing and beautiful in so many ways. I learned even more about love this past year, about my family’s unwavering love, strength, and commitment. I learned more about my own strength, patience, and determination amid hopes and dashed hopes. And I learned that I (and we) can survive the worst of emotional storms and loss with the help of family, friends, community, and a spiritual practice.  The depth of the compassionate support of family, friends, and the yoga community has sustained me. Thank you.

It is my wish that we celebrate this holiday season with gratitude for all that was and is. May we step into the New Year filled with hope for a better year and a more peaceful world.

I wish you and your loved ones a joy-filled Christmas and a healthy, serene New Year.

Love and Namaste,

Fran