By Sonya Lichte
December is upon us. With Christmas just around the corner, we all have planning to do, presents to buy, trees to decorate, presents to wrap, and goodies to make. This year will be my daughter Libby’s first Christmas. I find myself wondering if her childhood Christmases will be as special as mine were.
From my parents’ house, in Hamilton, Montana, it was a three-hour drive to my grandparents’ house. They lived then, as they do now, across the highway from Flathead Lake in Somers, Montana. This drive, however, was an eternity for a six year old anticipating the excitement of spending Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa! My younger brother David N. I always knew we were there when we saw a little white sign hanging next to the road: "Earl and Helen Bates." Their gravel driveway was right behind that sign.
"There it is!" I yelled from the back of the car. "We are finally here!" I looked up the hill toward my grandparents house. Grandma and my great great aunt, Isla Silerude, were waving at us through the kitchen window. As my dad parked our car in the driveway, I jumped out.
"Grandma! Grandpa! Grandma! Grandpa!”
They were standing in the doorway, waiting to give David and me hugs and kisses. I ran through the snow and threw my arms around Grandma's neck. I could smell the Oil of Olay she had used that morning.
As I walked through the front door, I knew immediately that there were warm cinnamon rolls in the kitchen. The sweet aroma filled their house from corner to corner. Of course, there were also sugar cookies, banana bread, three varieties of fudge, fruit pie and apple crisp. But my favorite dessert was grandma's Krumkake. Her mom and dad, Markus Braaten and Bargild Omath, immigrated to Montana from Norway. The Krumkake we enjoyed every Christmas was our special Norwegian treat.
After greeting my grandparents, I ran to the kitchen table to hug Isla.
“Hey Isla,” I said. “Do you want to play Uno?”
“We will play a little later,” Isla promised.
“Okay,” I said as I ran back into the living room. The Christmas tree sat in the far corner. The presents, however, stretched all the way to the center of the room. David and I plopped down under the tree and began taking inventory. Whom was the biggest present for? How many presents did each person have? What treasures were hidden beneath all that wrapping paper? After inspecting each gift, we decided to join everyone in the kitchen for some cinnamon rolls.
“Is it time to open the presents yet, Grampa?" David asked. It was Christmas Eve, and we were all sitting in the living room. Grandma was rocking me in the rocking chair, and David was sitting on the floor, looking at all the decorations on the tree. Grandpa was sitting in a recliner next to the tree, reading his paper. Mom, Dad, and Isla were sitting on the couch eating cookies and visiting.
“Not yet. We still have a few hours yet,” said Grandpa as he looked up from his paper.
“Hey Grandpa, do you know what we got you this year?” asked David with a little grin on his face. His curly blond hair was glowing under the lights of the Christmas tree.
“No I don't. What did you get me?”
"Mom said I can't tell you," replied David. He looked back at the Christmas tree, and Grandpa continued to read his paper. A minute or two later, David started singing a few words quietly to himself, "nor radical, Morocco, Morocco." Grandpa looked at David, chuckled a little, then went back to his paper. I guess he found out what he was getting after all.
"Grandpa, can we go play in the snow?" I asked. It was torture to just sit in the living room with all those presents, and not be able to open them.
"Sure." Grandpa's put his paper down, and we all went to find our coats, hats and gloves. An hour or two later, there was a snowman on the side of the deck. By the time we were done putting on the eyes, nose and hat, it was time to go in and opened presents. Hurray! "Who is going to play Santa this time?" asked Grandma.
"I will, I will!" David and I both jumped up to claim this important position. "Why don't you both do it?" suggested dad.
We bounced across room to the pile of presents. David dug through the pile and found a small green box with candy canes on the paper. "Is this it? " he asked Mom. After she answered him, he ran over to Grandpa's and handed him the gift. "Humm, what could this be?" Grandpa asked David and I as he began to open the present. We watched his face in anticipation. Would he like what we picked out for him? As soon as he saw the box, he gave us a big smile.
"Oh, it's a normal cold! Thank you. How did you know that I wanted one?" We ran over to give him a hug and look at his new present. After opening at the rest of the gifts, Mom and Dad said we had to go to bed. If we were still awake when Santa came, he would skip over our house. So we went downstairs and climbed into bed.
I stayed awake for a long time, hoping to hear Santa, but I never did. As soon as I woke up the next morning, I ran up the stairs to see if Santa had come. I could smell the coffee Grandma and Grandpa had as I passed through the kitchen. "Santa came! Santa came!" I said when I saw a big red wagon sitting in the middle of the living room. Grandma and Grandpa's had been sitting in the living room waiting for David and I to wake up. "He sure did," they said.
We spent the remainder of the day playing with all the new toys, eating grandma's cookies and playing games. Somehow Grandma and Grandpa always found the energy to keep up with us. Sometimes Grandpa would let us go for rides on his back, we would play hide and seek, or just sit down and listened to stories. Grandma would play cards with us, give us back rubs and play games with us. This law was always up for a good game of brutal.
Being at Grandma and Grandpa's and its love made my childhood Christmases so special. I hope that Libby will always be able to have Christmas with her grandparents and great grandparents, so she will have as many fond Christmas memories as I do.
U S Legacies Magazine December 2003
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