I come from a broken family. My parents divorced when my little brother and I were very young. I don't remember a lot of my life from when my parents were married, because I was so young. My brother, being even younger, I'm sure has absolutely no memories of that time. The things that I do remember, are spotty at best. Even the memories that I have of my childhood after the divorce are starting to get harder, and harder to recall. There is one memory though, that I will have until the last breath leaves my body.
It was either 1984 or 1985, I can't remember which. My mother and father were very newly divorced, and we (minus my dad) had just moved back to my mom's hometown. We moved into this tiny 2-bedroom cottage, and barely had a pot to piss in. My mom, knowing that she now had the responsibility of caring for my brother and I on her own, went to business school so that she would be able to do just that.
I can't even begin to comprehend that stresses that my mother felt during that time. Not only did she have to figure out how to raise 2 small children all on her own, but she also had to balance school, work, and her life in general. I don't know how she made it work, but she did it. Flawlessly.
That first Christmas, that we spent just the 3 of us, is honestly one of the happiest memories of my entire life. It's right up there with the day I married my husband, and the birth of my babies. I'll never forget it.
My mom didn't have a lot of anything, let alone a lot of money, but we didn't know this. I remember being out of the house one day, running errands with my mom, around the middle of December that year. At one point, we pulled up at a stop light, next to this green van. I looked over, and my eyes got as big as my face. It was Santa Claus! Remember, I was 5 and it was Christmas time, and Santa Claus was sitting RIGHT next to me, driving a green van!
I told my mom, and by this time, my brother had seen him too. We were squealing with excitement, and by this time, Mr. Claus had noticed the commotion we were making over him. He looked at us, and he had to know what we were thinking. He smiled the biggest smile, waved at us, and pointed to his eyes - as if to let us know that he was watching - and then he drove away. My brother and I were on cloud nine the rest of that afternoon.
Once we finally got back to our little cottage, the excitement started all over again. Santa's green van, was there. The exact same one. Not only was it there, but it was parked RIGHT in front of our place! My brother and I started our hooping and hollering again, and that's when we noticed that our curtains were open, and that there was a Christmas Tree, complete with lights, sitting in our living room!
Now, I'm more than certain that the van was just a coincidence, but then, you couldn't convince me otherwise that it was in fact Santa Claus in that van, and that he and his elves were the ones to gift us that tree. My mom played off the excitement of my brother and I, and allowed us to believe what we wanted. She never said anything to contradict what we had assumed. Still to this day. We most definitely went to bed that night with visions of sugar plums dancing away in our heads.
The next morning, when we woke up and saw that the Christmas Tree was in fact real, and still in our house, the excitement started all over again. The only thing on the tree at this point, were the lights that Santa had left on it. So my mom decided that since she couldn't buy anything to put on the tree, we would make decorations. She had construction paper, ornament hooks, glitter, glue, an egg carton, and a pair of scissors. We made 'bells' out of the egg cartons, complete with glitter. Out of the construction paper we made gingerbread men, candy canes, stars, and even some angels - also covered in glitter. We spent hours at our small kitchen table, crafting our little hearts out. Then, we placed our creations onto the tree, completed it with the Angel topper I'd made in my kindergarten class, and it was complete! It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life! (I'm talking about the tree, not my artwork, though that was pretty spectacular as well)
This memory, is something that I cherish. Something that I hold so very dear to my heart. It was that moment, that my mother became my hero. Granted I was only in kindergarten, and I didn't really have a clue about all the sacrifices she had made to that point, and would continue to make for my brother and I, but I knew she was amazing. She was who I wanted to be. Exactly. Every piece of her, was exactly everything I needed to know. I can only hope that I'm half the mother to my children that she was to me.
Really, I guess the moral of this whole story, is to not overlook the small things. Construction paper ornaments, and a little bit of glitter had such a huge impact on my life, when it really shouldn't have. I'm so thankful that I have this memory, and that it's something that I'll be able to share with my children, and someday, my grandchildren. I hope that I can leave an imprint on them .. the way my mother did (and continues to do) on me.
Until Next Time ..
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