Its almost Christmas

Growing up I looked forward to Christmas at Greatgrandmas. The minute my little body entered all I got was delicious food and love. The kids spent the entirety of the night running, playing, stealing food and of course taunting one another. The family would snowmobile and eat. We'd open presents and eat. Greatgrandma's front porch was always chilly but thats where the sugar was! Christmas was absolutly enchanting, it was my favorite.



I loved that house. It was perfect to my young, naive eyes. Ther was this smell that was always there and I loved it. The house had a chill; it was always cold, especially upstairs. I dreamed of growing up and living there. I'd have the steep winding stairs, the huge grate, the air vents, the dark drafty basement. I modeled my dream bedroom after one of the rooms upstairs. That room was always cold, the sheets would be freezing and I'd have to do scissor moves to try to heat it up. Laying there after the warmth came I listened to the laughter and talking from downstairs. The Dodge Center curfew siren would ring, the trains would rumble by and I would drift off to sleep. It was all so perfect to me. I dreamed of being old enough to stay up, old enough to do crafts with the ladies, and just plain being old. I never dreamed it would end.



Then Greatgrandpa died. The next Christmas the stool he and I would sit on was empty. I tried to fill it, but it was lonely. No one was there to tell me I had a bony butt or still lefsa with me. I never sat there very long anymore. Pulling off Christmas without Grandpa was too hard for Grandma. Christmas in Minnesota stopped.



When Christmas stopped, I quit seeing my whole family. I began to here the fighting and anger between them. Christmases always seemed to be missing something. Yet, everytime we visited Greatgrandma in her wonderful house it felt like Christmas. The house was still perfect, it was still mine.

Greatgrandma got sick. She had to sell the house, I was absolutely devasted. Then, Greatgrandma died. After the funeral, when she was really gone we drove past the house. It was dirty and small it looked run down. I thought the new owners must of really just let it go. How dare they?! That was my house! That was my dream! Suddenly Dad's voice broke through my rage, "Wow it hasn't changed at all." My jaw fell open, I was silent. My perfect house was icky? I closed my eyes and there it was, Christmas eve day. I'm being unloaded from the car, shooting through the tough screen door. I hug everyone, I find Annie, we play. I'm on Greatgrandpas lap stealing food, wishing I could help make lefsa. I'm on the back of a snowmobile, behind Todd. I love Todd. We drink hot chocolate. The Christmas tree finally peeks through as the stacks of presents are handed out. Then on go my homeade jamies. I'm sleepy. Mom and Dad load everything into the car, including me I'd already hugged everyone twice but I wanted one more before bed. I wave as sleep comes, my eyes close, and then open. Dad hadn't stopoped driving for my reverie. The house is gone, forever.