Ok, I lied. I did have a good Christmas memory. I was just too focused on “childhood mornings” (almost no memories) rather than general holiday memories.
My best Christmas memory from my childhood would be the day my mom came to grand’s one day after work and she looked pretty upset.
No, I’m not sadistic.
It was about three days until Christmas. She told me about how one of her co-workers and their family had had a fire the night before and how they’d lost their home, all the things that were going to be under the tree… Santa…. all gone. I couldn’t even imagine. I’m probably not more than thirteen myself, having discovered the secret of Santa some eleven years before, so knowing two kids younger than I would not be having a Christmas was pretty painful to think about.
My mom told me that he had family that had taken them in and due to their insurance, they would eventually be able to rebuild after the holidays… whew! If I was a kid, not having a home at all would be the more pressing point than some damn presents (can’t play with a truck without a floor to play on right?) but the thought the kids would have little to nothing left (as all of it went with the house) was the only real pressing issue. She said the kids had been awesome about it, completely expecting that since they didn’t have their house that year, Santa of course probably wouldn’t be coming and that was ok.
Now understand I was a monetarily spoiled child who had not only a bedroom but a “playroom” crammed full. Grand, who I lived with and who raised me, was one of those souls who only knew how to express affection in the dollar amount spent, so I had quite a vast selection of things that had accumulated in my brief lifespan. Many of which your average kid would have probably thought awesome, but most of which was not really interesting to me, so a lot of it was still in pristine condition, tags, boxes and all. So it only took a knowing look with mom and we proceeded to roll our sleeves and commence to stocking the back of her pickup with probably enough toys to appease three times the number of children.
And that, my friends, was my best childhood Christmas.
Told you I wasn’t a sadist.
Maybe a little.