Christmas - “Holler" Days

Harken to the joyous sounds, sights and smells of the Christmas of yesteryear. 

Yuletide carols, sleigh bells tinkling profusely in the crisp, crystalline air that crackles ever so gently on your lips and eyelashes.

"Doggy Jingle Bells" playing on a distant unseen radio.

The snapping and popping of an old Ozark stone fireplace as hickory logs send their sweet Christmas perfume through the halls and doorways of an antique log cabin home filled with everlasting Christmas spirit.

This, my good and faithful friends, was not what Christmas was like in my childhood.

My dad hated Chris-----
No, that is a bit too harsh if you ask me. (Go ahead and ask me.)
(You - Isn't that a, bit too harsh?) (Me- Yeah, I think it is too harsh.)

Let me rephrase that statement.
My dad hated spending money for Christmas, putting up the tree, putting toy's together, putting up decorations in the yard and on the house, going to church for a Christmas service or pageant and I never, ever heard him say Merry Christmas. Funny thing. He was a ministers son!

Yep, yep;. that's what I said. A minister’s son. (you always knew they were the worst, didn't you?)

Something in his childhood must have made him bitter towards Christmas and religion in general. ( or maybe he just had a heart two sizes too small).

So, Christmas was literally the holler days at our house.

Dad would holler at mom for spending too much money for Christmas and mom would holler back at dad. Then, all of us kids would start hollering at each other because it just seemed like the thing to do.

Let me share something that totally amazed me.

My dad was a good man. Really!
However, Christmas made him angry, upset, frustrated, foul mouthed, and belligerent.

O.K., now, here is what amazed me.
When dad visited his mother around Christmas, he was a perfect angel.
No cursing, no smoking, no drinking., Why, he was even in a good mood! (at least, he pretended to be).

How did he turn it on and off like that? He never slipped up, either!
Listen to how dad sounded when he stubbed his toe at home - "G.D. son-of-a-bleep and bleepers!)

Now listen to how he sounded if he stubbed his toe at his mommies house, - Oh, shucks, excuse me for such harsh
language.

Dad, at home- Hey, you! Bring me my cigarettes and a beer and then pull my finger.

Dad, at his mommies place - Oh, how I deplore those wicked, wicked souls who partake of "demon" beer and cancer sticks, mommie dearest. (the Academy award goes to Dad for the best performance in a Christmas setting.)

We always got a real Christmas tree. It wasn't really Christmas without a real evergreen tree like Jesus had.

More excerpts from the "Holler Days" chapter of my book next Thoughtful Thursday!