"...pole star"

The Holiday season is a pole star to be looked to. I remember back when cars had fins milk was delivered in bottles children could wander safely, and you could have TV in any color as long as it was black, and white.

In that faraway time before we crammed near space with debris, and online meant waiting to get into a movie. I remember Uncles, and Aunts tons of cousins' friends pouring into each other’s houses.

I remember our house.

All dolled up as best we could. Our traditional six-foot tree. Decorations some going back to the late 1800’s mixed with flashy electrics of the 50’s. Dad, and the uncles all gathered in the daddy spots yacking guy stuff. Work the Army…WW2 recently over. What routes they took to get here. Most came on Eisenhower's new Interstates.

My Ma, and the aunts in the mommy space…the kitchen. Going on about how them uncles drove them crazy who was graduating college who was having a baby. Babies. I remember babies showing up all the time. Endless new cousins even a new sister.

Meanwhile our dog Brownie was under the table listening. That’s what dogs do for kids. They listen to what’s really going on. Then tell all good girls, and boys what’s coming their way. Good Dog!

Presents. Besides tearing the house apart my siblings' cousins and I dreamed. We wondered at the neat stuff coming our way. Santa never let us down. …mostly. We was seriously into that guy. 

The Sears Roebuck Christmas catalogue that the mailman would slip us was an instruction manual for yule heaven. We thought Santa ran Sears. At least at Christmas. ...made sense at the time.

Before the age of fast-food gluttony folks only pigged out once or twice a year. This was da deal for over a thousand years. Enter the Christmas Turkey aka Thanksgiving turkey part two. Hopefully a different one. It was bleeping swell. We was all gleefully stuck together in the loving amber of family and friends.  We had each other. …and it mattered. 

The house. All gewgawed out. Lights bright decorations cards on every surface. The aroma of cooking filled every room. Near every house. While playing outside we could smell the turkeys' pies cakes sauces everywhere every street. We sat said grace then the passing of food. All manner of wonders. Laughing the telling of stories, the tree bright blinking it’s soul to heaven.  We were family we were friends we were together.

Remember these were Depression, and WW2 folks. Those that could made sure the kids had at least a taste of security. As my ma told me years later. She dad, and our aunts, and uncles. They gave us our cousins everyone good memories on purpose. They knew what desperation was, and what it did.

They deliberately created a sense of harmony despite everything. I was told years later we nearly lost our house…more than once. I found out in my thirties. They so loved us.

There was music. My family both sides played instruments. This was a common thing before mass entertainment. In the days before and when radio was cutting edge. Folks made their own music. Having instruments, and sheet music was common. In the 50's it still was.

We sang carols. My dad played the piano assorted uncles aunts accompanied on violin and viola. Everyone sang. Even me shy as I was. We sang and meant it because we really believed in things. Each other…even G-d.

Yule gatherings have been with us for 1000's years, and more. Beginning as wilderness Solstice rituals. It’s been passed on to many peoples each adding their touch to it.  Family friends gather at certain points in the year for a reason. A kindly one. In times like now with divisions war plague it's even more important. Keep Love your hearts. Bless you all. Be brave be safe be wise be kind.