HOLIDAYS

You remember how my last blog referred to Memorial Day triggering lost memories. Well, the recent Fourth of July holiday not only recalled old memories, but led to me dredging up old memories from many different holidays in my lifetime. 

So here goes, in no particular calendar order.

The Fourth first, of course. When I was a kid, during and just after WWII, we were so proud of our country and what we had done to save the world that the sight of a flag in a parade was enough to bring me to tears of pride. So I did a bit of crying this weekend when I saw Fourth of July tributes on TV.

As a young mother, I always made a flag cake on the holiday for our cookout (impressed the kids so much they often invited their friends over for dessert). Sheet cake baked in 9 x 12 pan. Lines of strawberries for stripes, massed blueberries in star area. At the last minute, white Reddiwhip squirted on for stripes and stars. Also--- neighbor, a fireman, always had firecrackers that he had confiscated (rules were a lot tougher in those days!) that he shot off in his yard. Great holiday for years!
                                                                                                                             
The first day of summer, the Simmer Solstice. We were in England. As an art student, of course I wanted to see Stonehenge. Arrived early, driving up a sloping hill to the site. Lovely morning. Fantastic view coming up the hill. (Only Chartres Cathedral in France had a more awesome hillside approach!) We hadn't realized it was the solstice. Astonished to see, at some distance, hundreds of tents of people who had camped out to see the stones on this particular day. (Check Stonehenge site info---the stones and sun are supposed to align perfectly only on that day.) It was a bonus for us. Also the fact that, in those days, there was no fear of vandalism and we were able to go up and through the stone circle, touching the stones as we passed.

Christmas. I know I have mentioned in old blog entries about how wonderful our holidays were in Germany, when we were invited to share the holidays with our German friends and neighbors.
 But I don't think I ever mentioned two stories. 

One was silly and fun. The other was ultimately embarrassing.

The fun? Don't remember for sure if it was Christmas or New Year, but it was a holiday that in Germany was celebrated with fireworks, though we didn't in the States. Neighbors---the local baker who let me cook casseroles in his oven during the summer when I only had a hotplate, and my coal stove with oven was not active (too hot for the summer months)---anyway, neighbors invited us over that evening. We watched the outdoor fireworks from a distance, then repaired to their kitchen with them and friends. Hot mulled wine. Small "inside" fireworks. We were instructed to cover our glasses when one of them was lit, since the ashes would fall into our wine. And an especial memory of that evening---a firework that was a small cement dog with a large asshole. The small firework would be inserted into his asshole and lit. Whereupon it oozed forth very realistic-looking dog poop!

The embarrassment? Invited back for Christmas to our previous German family from whom we had rented a room. Very excited. We had bought lots of presents from the Army PX that I had wrapped in fabulous wrapping paper (lots of decorative foil---very new), fastened with Scotch tape and attached with bows and ribbons. 

When we untied the ribbon and unwrapped the presents that our landlady and family had given us, they carefully refolded the paper and put it away with the ribbon. Too late, I realized that they had probably saved their wrapping paper for years, especially during the war years and after. And when they had to tear our packages because of the Scotch tape, I remember feeling very embarrassed. There was simply not enough left to save.

Thanksgiving. I think I've mentioned before that we called it Bird Day, because my nutty mother always came into the dining room bearing the turkey and singing "Happy Bird Day to Us"!

Veteran's Day in November---we called it Armistice Day before the Second World War. It represented the day and hour (the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month) when the troops of both sides put down their arms in 1918 to end the first World War.

Halloween. Great memories. Through the years we gave many Halloween costume parties. While still in high school, my brother and I gave a great one. (I made a sari, dyed and gold-painted nine yards of fabric and wrapped it authentically, according to an article in Life Magazine. I even gave myself a "bindi" that mark in the middle of my forehead that many Indian women display.) One school friend was a young man, very handsome, but with a pronounced sloping brow line. We teased and sometimes called him a Neanderthal. Well, he came to our party in a fur loin cloth and nothing else! Looked perfect! (Too bad in those days it seldom occurred to us to take pictures.)

College-age party. Both I and boyfriend, later husband, in school (I finishing Brown, he starting law school), but we met at my parents' in Massachusetts to go to their country club Halloween party. We came as Salome and the head of John the Baptist. (Will explain at some point in the future how we did this, but it was very authentic-looking! Have a picture somewhere if I could find it!) We won first prize. A bottle of champagne. Couldn't accept it because we were both under 21, which was the age allowed to drink alcohol in those days!

A much later party, when we were a married couple. Had a wonderful friend who came from Florence in Italy. She told fortunes. Sadly, after one of her fortunes, the father of one of our guests died the next day. The following year, our friend said that if our fortune teller was coming to our party, she would not attend. (Spooky!)

And finally, the most spooky holiday story. My father's younger brother was a dear man. Served in the Canadian Army during the war. Came home and married. (Eventually moved to the States and worked for my father in his business.) He married a wonderful woman who was my favorite aunt.

She was born on March 17, St. Patrick's Day. They married on December 7, Pearl Harbor Day. Her first child was born on January 1, New Year's Day.

We used to tease her about it. Her reply? "Just so you won't forget me!"

She died young and unexpectedly. We all went to her funeral, then sat around in someone's house mourning her loss. 

Someone brought up the coincidence of all her holiday dates.

Then we realized that she had died on October 31, Halloween! 
It gave us a moment of laughter and joy, saluting her wonderful lifetime.

What's the Life Lesson here?

Memory.

Go back to your own memories of holidays. See how many touching, fun and oddball things happened through the years.

Just to remember is a joy.

P.S. Do leave a response on this site if you can, and share your own memories here.