I can't believe it's Christmas Eve. It seems like we just had Thanksgiving, but lo and behold, Christmas Eve is upon us.
Christmas Eve has always held a special place in my heart. For the first 33 years of my life, the Meyer side of the family celebrated Christmas on the 24th (Christmas Day was reserved for Mom's side of the family). My dad loved Christmas and I always remember how happy he was when we celebrated with his parents and his brother (my Uncle Gary). I have fond memories of Christmas eves spent at my Grandpa and Grandma Meyer's house. We'd all gather in the family room and look with anticipation at the gifts under the tree. Then Uncle Gary would say the prayer before the meal. At the time, the prayer seemed to take an eternity. But after a few minutes it was time to eat and we'd eat and snack on a Christmas smorgasbord (highlighted by Grandma's famous, bourbon-laden cocktail weenies cooked in a fondue pot). The recipe called for a quarter cup of liquor, but we always suspected Grandma gave the weenies an extra splash or two just for good measure. She claimed the alcohol was cooked off, but judging by taste, we could never be sure. Once we had eaten ourselves silly, the kids would beg to open the presents. Our pleadings were often denied because "it was not time yet". The adults would then suggest all we grandchildren walk up to the manger scene at the Paul Young Funeral Home in Mt. Healthy. We didn't realize it at the time, but this was a stroke of pure genius by the adults. It gave the kids something to do, got the kids out of the house for a while and the adults were blessed with a few moments of peace and quiet (probably the best Christmas gift any of them received). Once we returned from our mini journey to Bethlehem (aka Mt. Healthy, Ohio), the adults could hold us off no longer, the gifts were opened and the kids had plenty to occupy their attention. At the end of the evening, it wasn't difficult to get us to leave. We were told Santa was coming that night (as if we didn't know!) and he wouldn't come unless we went home and hit the sack.
It was the same scenario year after year with few variations. Things changed a bit as the grandkids got older and stopped believing in Santa. When the gifts received could no longer occupy the attention of teenagers, things changed as well. For whatever reason, things slowly changed over the years. Grandpa passed away in 1994 and the tradition carried on for Grandma's sake. In 2001, due to grandchildren now having families of their own and more scheduling conflicts than ever before, it was decided to break with tradition and hold the celebration on December 15th. This decision was not made lightly and was virtually unheard of in the Meyer family. I remember Grandma grudgingly (and not so quietly) agreeing to the change of date. Grandma was in poor health, but was not exactly on her death bed either (or so we thought). We were (somewhat) taken by surprise when Grandma passed away on December 22nd. By the grace of God and what could be viewed as a Christmas miracle, we were able to celebrate Christmas with Grandma one last time. This would not have happened if we had stuck to our Christmas Eve tradition.
Since 2001 we have not celebrated what is now called "The Meyer Family Christmas" on Christmas Eve. It is now celebrated on a mutually agreed upon date. A date that comes after a lot of e-mailing and text messaging between family members. It's never easy, but in the end we find a date that works for everyone.
Now the so-called Meyer Grandchildren have older children and in my case I am a Grandpa myself. As time marches on and I see the wonder of Christmas in the eyes of my own grandchildren, I am reminded of Christmas Eves past. They are a part of me that I will never forget. I miss my dad and I miss my grandparents on the Meyer side.
I will post about Mom's side of the family soon. Just wait until you hear about those wild and crazy times. Stay tuned, folks. Merry Christmas!
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