Christmas Eve day 2020 and I am surrounded by our twelve living grandchildren. Of course, 12 grandchildren ages 8 and under means a certain amount of bedlam. God says that I am surrounded by wealth and riches unspeakable. And so I am.
I can’t help but look both backwards and forwards. Looking backwards I remember when I was the age of my grandchildren celebrating Christmas at my own Grandparent’s homes. Did they look at me and fast forward 55 years in their mind’s eyes to see me as a Grandparent with grandchildren of my own playing about my feet as I now am looking into the future in my mind’s eyes to see my own grandchildren as grandparents with their grandchildren celebrating Christmas at their homes. It is the idea of generational continuity that finds me thoughtful. Will my grandchildren attend Christmas Eve or Christmas morning services with their grandchildren when they are grandparents? Will they and their seed honour Christ? What will the world be like in 55 years when my grandchildren are grandparents with grandchildren of their own? Will they remember Jane and I as I yearly remember my grandparents during this time of year?
As a child, Christmas at my Maternal Grandparents was about milking the cows and doing the chores. Only then, in the later evening, was Christmas celebrated. A late-night meal. It always seemed like we were eating these huge meals at Mid-night. Such was life on the farm. The meals were followed by large servings of Schwann’s Butter Pecan Ice Cream sprinkled liberally with Nestles Powdered chocolate. Then we would break out the euchre folding tables. Euchre and to a lesser extent Parcheesi were staples at the Jacobs household. I was my grandparents oldest grandchild and while I remember numerous cousins running about they were considerably younger and I don’t remember a great deal of interaction with my younger cousins.
If we were at my Grandma McAtee’s it was a meal with all hands on deck to help. Grandma McAtee had a hand pump in her house for her running water and so in order to do the dishes after the meal, it was required to heat the water up on the stove. Archie brand cookies were always the treat there and her family game of preference was Aggravation.
My father was a man who did not have peace in his soul and so holidays seldom ended peacefully. To this day I remain saddened for my Mother who I’m sure was distressed by the lack of peace in the home. This is one reason why I so desperately desire the grandchildren to have pleasant memories of Christmas at Pop Pop and Noni’s home. It is possible in 55 years they will be doing something like this chronicling their Christmas memories about their childhood while wondering what kind of Christmas memories their grandchildren will one day own. I hope those Christmas chronicles they might record will be bespeckled with joy and warmth.
