I sit at my dining table looking out at my patio garden that is bare–except for the scattering of leaves I need to rake. Birds fly to my feeder, grateful that I just loaded it with a rich blend of seeds and peanuts, something to suit the taste of multiple species and the squirrel who insists on eating them upside down. His heavy body has torn out one of the perches that I mend with clear packing tape.

Alexa plays the song that goes with the scene, James Taylor’s “In the Bleak Midwinter.” That may sound like a depressing choice, but I find it simple and beautiful. It feels like the right accompaniment for lingering memories of Christmas.

I think of the joy and chaos of my grandsons in Grammy’s kitchen last Saturday making their favorite Christmas cookies– M & M/Tollhouse and gingerbread. They’ve grown so much since last December, Baker now six and in first grade, Parks now four and in Pre-K. They approach their baking with more confidence and are insistent on how many cookies they can eat and not ‘spoil their lunch’ —as if that were ever a thing 🙂

They also love to make art while they’re at Grammy’s. I get out my tackle box that has stored my tubes of water color paint, stickers, stamps, markers, and crayons. I couldn’t handle all the activity if it weren’t for my younger son, Ross helping me. The boys love “Uncle” and he loves them— managing their brother behavior and sometimes asking me,
“We weren’t like that, were we?” when they start fighting about the tiniest thing. That question brings back many memories of how Ross and Brooks were like bear cubs–always wrestling, competing, showing their brotherly love in physical contact. It had been a learning experience for me, raising sons after being one of three daughters; what good preparation for my rambunctious grandsons 🙂

On Christmas night, I saw them again at their house. They seemed a bit dazed from getting up at 5:30 that morning to find Santa’s toys and also open the ones from their parents and maternal grandparents who were in from Tennessee. We were all together the previous two Christmases–including David, my Ex, “Popi” to our grandsons. But this year was different; I brought the man I’ve been dating over the past year. I knew the first time this happened it would be somewhat awkward; transitions in a family always are. I’d talked with my sons and my Ex about this beforehand– hoping to smooth the way. Overall, I think the evening went well, especially for the first time.

Baker and Parks were so enthralled in their toys that the change probably didn’t register. Baker was focused on putting his Pokemon trading cards in his new binder. He had a smaller holder for a few cards.

“I’ll take them to school and trade with my friend,” he told me.

Don’t kids usually do that when they’re older, I thought. To me, he seemed more like a fourth than first grader. How much he’d grown this school year. I’d been struck by how kids have evolved, how much change there’d been since my boys were young–but then they’re 38 and 39 and things are different now. The same was true in watching Baker play Little League and Rec League basketball; the skill level was so much higher than in the past.

Parks had been focused on his Transformers when we arrived. I was delighted when he opened my present of a library of fairytale books and he pulled out one for Popi to read. He can bounce from slamming his Transformers together in a play fight to sitting in your lap to co-read. I remembered when I used to keep him two days a week and how he loved books. I’d been a little worried that his language wasn’t developing—a real contrast to Baker who’d talked early. But once Parks did start talking, it developed quickly and now he loves telling stories and hearing Grammy’s stories.

He came up to me at the dinner table.

“Grammy, tell the “Black Snake Story.”

He loved that true tale of when I was bitten the night before starting the 8th grade. Fortunately, I was able to get him to wait until after dinner and gifts and by then he’d moved on to the next thing. I’d loved watching his imagination develop, often observing him making up stories, standing to himself and saying “Once upon a time . . .”

I savor these moments of Christmas 2024. I know that by the next one, my grandsons will have made so many changes. And I will have made changes, too.

I wonder what Christmas memories linger for you this year? What changes have you seen in others since the last Christmas you shared? What changes have you seen in yourself?

I wish you a gentle time of reflection as we leave Christmas behind and head into the New Year.

Connie