It is once again Christmas Eve and if I were to think about it, I might possibly recall last Christmas Eve. But right off the top of my head nothing special about the day, nor the day after, comes to mind. It has been many years since I have experienced a Christmas like those portrayed by folks like Currier and Ives and Norman Rockwell. Or even the Peanuts gang.
To the best of my memory the last “normal” Christmas, that is with parents and three siblings, for me was in 1967 in Greenfield; by the following year my older brother was doing a four-year stint in the Navy and did not return until late 1972. In the interim, my mother and I left Greenfield in January of 1972 for Corona in Riverside County, when my prison system employed parents transferred from Soledad to Chino; my father and younger brother followed in March. By the time my older brother arrived in Corona, I was gone. Having become homesick, or at least townsick, I had stuffed a sleeping bag, a few clothes, toothbrush and a five-dollar bill into a backpack and had hitchhiked back to the Valley (a two-day ordeal I should write about someday).
So, again, the best I remember as the last full Wilson family Christmas was 58 years ago.
My first Christmas sans my family, the Christmas of 1972, I was living in the upper floor of the Greenfield Hotel; a fine old relic still used for rooming purposes. I moved there after spending a few weeks in a small house trailer with a friend who has requested I never use his name in my column but to this day I consider as close as a brother, closer. I don’t recall with whom I spent that year’s Christmas, nor the next three Christmases. I may have, in at least one of those years, traveled to Corona, but no vivid memories come to mind.
When the 25th of December 1976 rolled around, I had been a married man for only a few days. I am mildly ashamed to admit I do not remember the wedding date but it was a Saturday shortly before Christmas, so the 17th or 19th are possibilities. (I got curious and referred to an online 1976 calendar; it was the 18th, so I was close.) At the time my wife and I, and ultimately my two children, were members of an ultra-conservative, fundamental evangelical Christian cult. And so, our Christmases together were always with others of the church, a recognized church as the leader was an ordained Pentecostal preacher, and I frankly have tried to blot out the seven years I was involved with that entity.
For me, married life ended when my daughter and son were aged 5 and 3, whereas fatherhood of course continues until this day; now augmented by grandfatherhood (I see spell check/auto correct indicates it should read “grandfather hood,” but I like it better my way). As Jenny and Steven are now 48 and 46, respectively, that has been over four decades of Christmases as a father, and two decades or so as a grandfather and my presence at any of those family gatherings could be hit or miss.
In the early days of being a single father, there were two things to deal with. First, my children were still under the influence of the church with a mother reluctant to pull away from the seeming shelter of a dwindling congregation (she did, finally, and has had a happy marriage now for a couple decades), and even under court ordered visitation rights the hierarchy of the church were always present, ever watchful of this back-slidden interloper. The other obstacle was me. I just plain ran amok for more years that any man should who is trying to maintain contact with his kids. I lost a lot of valuable time, and so did they.
This is a Christmas column, so it should have a happy ending and it does. Today I have communications with Jenny and Steven, and my grandkids Cameron, Camille, Caleb, Rebecca, Leilani and Samuel. Now, given at the present time these people are spread from Montana to Florida to North Carolina and Oklahoma, it makes being with any of them out of the question most of the time, but with today’s tech we do the best we can.
All the above is my story of family at Christmastime; my bet is that it is not unique at all. Many families will gather together in homes to celebrate according to their beliefs and traditions, and many families will gather online via myriad tech devices. Whatever the case, I do hope families and friends find this season a peaceful one.
Enough. It is Christmas Eve and you folks don’t need to spend time on this drivel. Through tonight and tomorrow I will spend time with old film friends. Thanks to the lovely folks down at the KC Library, I have an arsenal of movies that have become part of my holiday tradition. “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “Miracle on 34th Street,” “The Bishop’s Wife,” “A Christmas Story” and maybe one or two more. If I am able to bear up under the cold, this evening I may bike around a few neighborhoods and see what folks have done to decorate for the season.
And to all of you, however it is you choose to spend your holidays, I do hope it brings you great happiness and joy.
Take care. Peace.
