Saturday, December 29, 2012

A Christmas Story

The Last and the First

“Are you sure, Mom?” I countered. She was insisting I pick out a shirt and this time it wasn’t so she could go home and make it for me. We were actually going to purchase it, unheard of in the Johnston household in 1978.  My mother made all of our clothes, including blue jeans for my brother.  She even made me a coat once.  We were what you would call “house poor”.  We had a nice house, but scrimped and saved for everything else we owned.  Our 1970’s-something gray Pinto and green Ford station wagon (with fake wood paneling) illustrated our life style more properly than our large house in a nice neighborhood in Blue Springs.

Thus, when she insisted I pick out a bunch of clothes, I couldn’t believe it and I didn’t understand.   I knew we didn’t have the money and it felt as if I was doing something wrong.  But I did it anyway; I figured if mom wanted me to do it, I would do it with enthusiasm.  And I did.  It was something I had never done and I enjoyed every minute of it.  When all the purchases were complete, she said to me very seriously, “Now, keep it a secret and don’t tell anyone, but these are your Christmas presents, I’m letting you pick out your gifts this year!”

Unbelievable!  The guilt fell off of me and I was so happy and thrilled that she was my mother and understood how much the spree meant to me as a 14 year old.  When I opened these wonderful items I had picked out, it was our little secret that I kept ~ until now.

That Christmas my Dad did his usual “guess the present” routine, he always made it really desirable and almost impossible to guess.  The “Pringles can with 50 half dollars taped together with duck tape” stayed with Dad that year, as none of us guessed exactly what it was.

As it turned out, that was the last Christmas I ever spent with Mom and Dad, as their lives were taken a few days before Thanksgiving of the next year, 1979.

Someone that helped me through it all was my gymnastics coach, Diane, just seven years older than me.

Fast forward 13 years, I am a single woman of 28 years old, I had moved away for quite a few years and then came back to Blue Springs.  It’s Halloween and there’s been a snow storm in Nebraska, keeping my future husband in town, rather than heading north.  We had never laid eyes on each other until that night when we were both shooting pool at a local hangout.  We had our first date a few days later and I went to work the next day telling everyone “I am going to marry that man.”

We courted through Thanksgiving and when it was time for Christmas, I was ready to once again, celebrate the holidays, something I had found difficult to do for many years.  I went to Walmart and purchased a fake tree.  We set it up and began our life together.  Several years later when we decided to elope to the woods, the first person we told was Diane, my gymnastic coach from the 70’s.

Keith and I got married in the Ozark Mountains with only a few people knowing about it.  We took our time having kids and finally had our second son within a month of me turning 40.  As our oldest turns ten this year, we had Diane out to the house for an early Christmas celebration. She helped us put up the Christmas tree this year, yep, THAT Christmas tree.  As we were assembling it, she asked, “How long have you had this tree?”   I just laughed as I explained it to her, knowing full well she remembered when Keith and I first met. I think I will keep that tree forever in memory of our first Christmas together.  As we were hanging the ornaments, it was then that I thanked God for old friends and new beginnings