Christmas Traditions and a little touch of Nostalgia

 Sometimes seamlessly traditions pass from parent to child, from generation to generation.  It may be in the form of story-telling, it may be in the form of a recipe, but most of all it is love transcending the generations, reaching out to those who by reason of being part of your family (and this includes blended families, blood family members and friends). Leaving a touch of their character and vibrancy behind, but as I say most of all love that is long lasting. It does not matter at the end of the day whether you have fallen out, and are not speaking as the underlying love never really dies.

My brother and I were very fortunate to have loving parents' who wanted us and there was lots of laughter, but we were also corrected when needed.  They were not only our parents' but our friends too.  They also believed in teaching us themselves as well so we come from a place where we have been nurtured.

From a very early age, before my brother was born, I remember the countdown to Christmas being, Mum making one week a Christmas cake and the following a Dundee cake.  They were always slipped into old biscuit tins to be fed and matured in the pantry.  Then it was the Christmas puddings.  Both the Christmas cake and the pudding everyone in the family had to stir the mixture and make a wish. In the Christmas pudding, silver sixpences used to be incorporated (well certainly by my Nan - a custom she carried on.

Mum as did many families back then paid into the club weekly and bought a Christmas hamper full of food and drink and the hampers were big in those days especially to a small child.  I cannot remember them being in wicker hampers back then big boxes I think they were.  Liqueur chocolates, tins of sweeties and tins of biscuits as well as Port and Advocaat, Whisky and Rum.  There used to be all sorts.

The big thing for us though as children was when Dad went into the attic and got the tree and the old tea chest down that had been with us since before my brother was born. That tea chest was treated as though it was a Treasure Chest as it held all the fragile Christmas baubles and decorations! That was usually a couple of days before Christmas.  This was for us the signal that Christmas was on its way.  Mum would make an event of it and we would spend the afternoon in front of the fire whilst she put the tree up and strung the lights.  We were not allowed to handle the delicate glass ornaments for fear of smashing them.  As I grew older though I was allowed to pass them to Mum to place on the tree. Much later we were allowed to put the decorations on ourselves. Mum always discretely fiddled with them when we had gone to bed, bt we were allowed to help.  A lot of the Mercury Glass ornaments were from Germany.  Some had been given to mum by friends. I always remember the bells that chimed like a proper church bell.  A pink one with spots and a blue one.  The pink one was broken very early on, but the blue one lasted until the year before mum passed when the tree fell over and she lost nearly 60 years of decorations.  She was very upset about this. My brother and I had not appreciated that the special ornaments had gone, although we did split what were left between us.

I remember my early Christmas's at my grandparents home.  Travelling in the dark at night on Christmas Eve, seeing the stars twinkling in the dark sky, often with thick snow on the road with the car's headlights casting an ethereal light on the brilliant white snow.  I used to be bundled up in a thick coat with a blanket on top.  There used to be singing and laughter on the journey, often carols (my Dad in his youth had been one of the main Chorister's in Lincoln Cathedral Choir) until his voice broke late.  He also played piano and various other instruments so when I was small there was always music in the house and around us.

Arriving at my Nan and Pop's home, we would immediately be ushered into the house and bundled in front of the fire until we had warmed up and a hot drink provided.  PJs used to be warmed on the Rayburn and then we would be got ready for bed.  A pillowcase used to be hung on the bottom of the bed and socks used to be hung on the mantelpiece.

We used to wait in the bedroom until we were asked to get up, even if we were awake!  A long wait for a child.

This was the routine followed year in year out until I was about 6 years of age, when it became a problem in carting all the presents to my Nan's home and we started to have our Christmas's at home.

There would however always be singing and laughter.  My grandparents also had a piano and I remember the family being altogether at Christmas Uncles, Aunts, cousins with my Dad playing and everyone else having a go at singing (not my forte).  One of the other features of Christmas at my Nan and Pop's was that the younger children were expected to recite or perform a little act to keep the adults entertained.  This could be a piece of memorised poetry, country dancing, ballet, jokes, so we got to take part too.

Christmas at home.

Christmas at home always started early on the year.  My mum had a fear of thunder and lightning which she passed on to me although she tried not to.  If there was a thunder storm, we would always be told that it was Santa Claus turning his toys over, and that if we did not mind ourselves and our behaviour we would go on the naughty list. We were terrified of the naughty list!

We also sent letters to Father Christmas up the chimney.  We would write our letters with the help of mum or dad and then they would pop them on the fire and they would appear to float up the chimney. Mesmerising for tiny tots and pure magic.

Dad also got involved.  My dear Dad had a heck of an imagination.  He was also heavily into photography. He had installed a new dark room in the attic of the Council house that we lived in, in Uppingham and had put a full floor down.  The attic seemed to be the favourite place for his dark rooms.  We were lifted up as he wanted to show us around the space that he kept disappearing into every so often and would not take us.  My Dad just could not help himself, he took the opportunity whilst we were up there, to get us both to tap on the chimney in the attic and say "Father Christmas are you there".  Much to our surprise we got an answer from Father Christmas which shook the both of us.  I turned round quick as I was sure it was Dad, but my brother for ages thought that he had had a conversation with Father Christmas.  So did I for a while, but I always suspected that Dad was having one of his regular jokes on us.  I would be about 6 years in age and my brother just over 3 years, so perfect age wise for pranking us.

Christmas at home for the best part followed the procedure utilised for when going to my Nan and Pop's home. Apart from the fact that when it came to Christmas Eve, we always had new pyjamas, and a plate with mince pies on (one mince pie from each of us), was always placed under the Christmas Tree together with a glass of Sherry or Port.  In those days carrots were not left for the Reindeer.  Stockings were always hung to the side of the mantelpiece out of the way of the main fire itself which nearly always had a fire guard over it.  Pillowcases were left at the foot of our beds.

There was great consternation though the year mum and dad had the gas fire installed.  We were both upset that Father Christmas would not be able to come down the chimney anymore and how would he find his way in.  This is where we were told that there was a magic key and that Santa Claus would be able to get in with this magic key. This caused further consternation for my brother, as he was then unhappy that someone would be coming into our house and his bedroom!

As we got older, we became more aware and were more suspicious as to what was going on.  However give my parents' their due, they kept the storyline going for as long as they could.  They had to tell me when I reached a certain age but I was sworn to secrecy so that it allowed my brother to still believe in the magic.

We used to get very excited on Christmas Eve and it would take ages for us both to get to sleep.  One year in particular, I think it was our first Christmas in Peterborough (I would be about 7 years of age), we took ages to go to sleep.  Poor Dad, he waited until we were flat out before he came into our bedrooms and nicked the pillowcases at the bottom of the bed. I think it was gone midnight. The pillowcases were filled and returned to the bottom of our beds and Dad took himself to bed.  My little brother then bless his heart appeared in my bedroom at about 3:30pm ever so excited because Father Christmas had been and he wanted to open his presents.  He was chattering nine to the dozen and in his excitement woke my Dad up.  I was trying to tell him that we had to wait to open our presents so that mum and dad knew who they were from later on but he wasn't having any of it.  A very weary and grumpy Dad then appeared in the bedroom and I got told of for waking my brother up!

When we were small we always opened our presents on mum and dad's bed.  They always tried to ensure that they knew who had sent the presents, so that they could give the right thank yous on our behalf.  When we got older, they were always opened up in the front room.

We always had happy Christmas's and we were much loved.  Sadly, so many of those loved ones have now passed over.  We have a very small family compared to what it was on my Dad's side now.  However on Christmas Day we have a custom of raising a toast to those no longer with us, so even now they are remembered with affection and much love and still live on.

What traditions do you have in  your family.

Catch you soon.

Pattypan

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