A Boxing Day Story for the Poor in Spirit~
As written 12/25/2021
I'm told to always remember that whatever the person's age, from 2-92, perhaps younger, maybe even older, that while the body may show it's age and be saying one thing, that the brain inside, mostly remains the same. The desires, the dreams, and the dreads are still there, the same, unchanged, as a child full of wonderment & fear. At 57 I've found that sentiment to be true, in oh so many ways.
I was the kind of kid who woke up in the middle of the night, Christmas Eve, and went through my stocking, shook the presents under the tree, then sat on the sofa and watched out the bay window at the lights and snow covered homes, in search of Santa. One snowy, blizzard of a year with such a bright eyed wonderment that I had convinced myself I had seen him on the roof of a house a couple blocks away...maybe I had.
I'm reminded that this year is the 29th without my mother of whom I only had 28 Christmases in life. Covid & a longtime inner urging to move south, has sent my only living sibling, my sister, out of state. Her daughters, my three adult nieces followed, one to lead, 2 others in tow, following their bliss. This has left my only other immediate family, my dad, who's still in the area, of whom our father/son relationship, over these many years, is not without it's own challenges.
Growing up, I was fortunate to come from and have a large extended family. I knew 4 of my great grandparents, several 2nd aunts & uncles and a variety of 2nds & 3rds cousins on both sides of the family. Besides my mother having 6 brothers, 2 sisters and dad had 2 brothers. So, I also have lots & lots of cousins and now second great cousins...working on 3rds. Most lived in the same general area, just a few towns apart, the ones that didn't would drive or fly in, for holidays & events, plus family friends were always welcome too.
The good-times, gatherings, parties & celebrations seemed endless. Now don't get me wrong, while I remember these things with great joy & bliss and a certain wide eyed child naivety, I do know these times were not perfect. There was plenty of turmoil, divorce, alcoholism, misfortune, illnesses and deaths, to name a few, in a large family, it's inevitable, if not expected. Most everyone in my family and quite a few friends, had lived with us, my family, at some point, off & on, throughout my childhood too, so their lives were very much intertwined and a part of ours in a more wonderful & personal way. This was who my parents were, always there to lend a helping hand, whatever the circumstance. Still, for me, they, the people & times were indeed, perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, and my memories, & thoughts, tickle my sentimental heart still.
While most years, between Don's family and mine, we are usually pretty busy this time of year visiting & celebrating. But, with covid, family turmoil and the rest scattered to the four corners, this, a 2nd covid year, had left Dad, Don & myself to celebrate the holidays together. Dad's getting up there in years and having some health issues, so I felt whatever we did it should be out by him, besides he still lives in the area I grew up, which felt right. After some thought and consideration, I thought of the 3 of us going to Mack's Golden Pheasant for Christmas Eve dinner.
Mack's is in the town I grew up in. It was my first job. At 14-15 years of age, I was a busboy, then dishwasher, until I began to work my way up to line cook assistant, before quitting to find my true life path. Importantly I was the peppermint ice cream taste tester...ha. Many of my aunts and uncles had worked there when they were youngsters and a grandmother, even waited tables trying to make ends meet while raising 9 children. More so, several of my friends had worked there, some into adulthood. Family events were held there often, wedding banquets, funeral dinners, Easter brunches, events & special dinners, I even hung out at the bar with a great many friends & family well into my 20s. We still go there on occasion. I've known 5 generations of the Mack's, from their family owned Restaurant.
We picked up dad and headed for Mack's Golden Pheasant. We were seated by the fireplace in the window room that looked out on their aviary, lit up in Christmas lighting, which usually has pheasants and the like in it. I hadn't been there in some years, but the decor and cuisine remained the same, outstanding with warm & cozy feel. I ordered the fillet, which came with a salad and soup. The baked French onion soup that was still excellent, the garlic dressing still out of this world and the most tender fillet served with onion rings over mushroom buttons and garlic dressings were unchanged, plus a fluffy baked potato, butter, sour cream & chives, all were still delicious.
After a couple of hours of good eats and conversation I got out my cell camera and video panned the room, fireplace, dad, our table, festive people, Don, outside the window room and its decor, holiday appropriate. As I continued to pan the room, with my cell, I had an overwhelming sense & feeling they were all here with us…ghosts of past, present & future. All those family members and friends, from days gone by, were there with us, if not in presence, certainly fond memories and spirit. And I thought, in the words of Charles Dickens Tiny Tim character, "God bless us, Everyone."
So it is, I write it down, because for now I remember it with a great love of all those who have come and gone, passing, for one reason or the other through my life and mine there's.
— feeling grateful.
Dad, Don & myself, have planned to revisit Mack’s again this year on Christmas Eve, making it a new family tradition. Dad will turn 80 mid January, 2023. With a recent ER visit he is currently in rehap and so we will see what ‘changes’ life has in store. I had taken a photo last year of the restaurant sign and have finally got to my translation in oil paint for this year. Here it is for your thoughts, comments & consideration.
Richard
‘MACK’s a 1st Snow’ 24”x24” oil
‘Mack’s a 1st Snow’ 24”x24” oil