9. White Christmas

She asked me tonight while laying in bed, "What was your favorite scene in White Christmas?" She was stalling but we reviewed all the ones we preferred - mine is Bing and Danny covering the Haynes Sisters act and Amelia's is the final scene when the snow falls. Then we talked about our favorite character; it took us some time to remember the four main characters names, not the actors names. We were surprised at how hard it was for us both to pinpoint their names and I took some solace in the exercise not necessarily being the precursor to Christmas future since a seven-year-old couldn't recall them either. 

We've seen the movie together at least five times at this point; I've seen it many more. She said, "You love Christmas movies." I said, "I do. But I love musicals too. So you can imagine how excited I was for a musical Christmas movie." 

Then she asked me to tell her about the first time I saw White Christmas. It took me a bit to pinpoint my answer about my first time. I assumed it was as an adult but as I rationalized the history and a somewhat accurate response, I came to land on the fact that the Haynes Sisters song was covered in Chris and Cullen's pre-wedding video, which was 30 years ago this December (certainly a time-warp of it's own). This fact put me at age 14 and meant I saw White Christmas for the first time when I was much younger. I told her, "I don't remember watching it with Nana or Grandpa Cornish," though we always note when we watch it that Vera Bradley was his personal favorite and this means that at some point in my life I watched it with him. I explained that you had to catch movies on tv when they were scheduled and even told her about a magical resource called the weekly television guide that would tell you what shows were scheduled and when. She asked, "but what if there wasn't anything you wanted to watch?" I just said, "well that sucked." Typing this now, I realize that is a first world problem my kids will never experience. 

So I imagined being a pre-teen or younger, wanting the same luscious song voice of Betty and the same dazzling outfits, short skirts and dancing stylings of Judy. Daydreaming, as my girls are still doing every year, about long reds dresses trimmed with white and a horse drawn carriage gliding through the snow as the perfect ending to a perfect Christmas. 

I don't know when I watched it for the first time. Every year I love to indulge in the euphoria of that story, though I know it's not reality and perhaps a bit archaic at this point. I made sure to point out that there are literally no people of color in the whole movie. Still, watching it has become a tradition in our house and provides a bridge to my childhood home. 

Last week, she said to me, "I hope it snows for Christmas." I remember feeling that way as a kid too. 

P.S. Vera Bradley is a no brainer choice, right, with the moves and the body; "she's so flexible," she said. But give me the physical humor of Danny Kay any day over those long, bendy legs. 

8. The List: Memories from my Childhood Christmas

My mom had many candles around the house, especially on her dining room table. I remember these clear candles with gold flecks speckled through them. They were long and skinny and stood in candelabras on the dining room table, which was usually somewhat set with an ironed table cloth for an impending meal (though most of the time, the room served more as a ghost).

At Christmastime, we would unpack large boxes that lived under the basement stairs; they took up all the space in one of the most intriguing childhood hideaways in the house. The boxes stored garland and ornaments and a variety of other holiday decor, including a few candles. One was stored in its’ own box within the bigger storage box. It was white and heavy; square and probably stood 8” high. It had glitter on it so it caught light similar to how snow would and each side was textured like I had never seen. You can imagine as a child I loved to dig it out and wanted to light it; but each year, it retained it’s glory because my mom never wanted to burn it.

This candle has haunted me throughout my adult life. I’d put money on possibility that if I went to my mother’s house and unpacked all her Christmas stuff, I would find it still stored away. Most likely the edges and corners would be round from wear, but I doubt it ever got burned. This is what haunted me the most. I’ve had some good candles in my life; some so beautiful I too haven’t wanted to burn them or they served as a reminder of time past or an old friend. Still, I choose to light them, enjoy their scent and the happiness I have when they’re part of my environment. Then, I find a new candle.

I told Maddie about this candle tonight in a rare moment that turned into parenting genius. She was pouting about handing on her Elf PJs to someone who actually fit in them and had become so lightened by her gesture. Maddie couldn’t enjoy that moment of giving. So I told her about the candle and about how things come and go (or we grow out of them). I tried to illustrate why it was important to release good things go in an attempt to allow other notable items to come in to your life. It fell on deaf ears. However, she completely understood the absurdity of having a candle and never burning it. So when I connected the dots, she turned over and went to bed.

Burn the candle.

5. The List: Memories from my Childhood Christmas

Christmas Chandeliers in each room window of our house was part of our "outside" light decor. There were larger ones with more candles downstairs in the living room, dining room and den. Upstairs, each bedroom window housed one for the season too.

And because it was the 80s, we used orange bulbs in them, you know for enhanced effect. You could walk around the house literally without any other light on and see relatively well because of how bright they were. As a child I loved this built in night light and I would screw and unscrew the miniature bulbs all the time. I would imagine Santa arriving and catching a glimpse of his sleigh just beyond their luminosity. They stayed on all Christmas Eve night. 



3. The Magical One

She didn't believe in herself enough to see it. She always looked outside for the beauty, the joy, the truth. How could she ever let go of the immense disappointment she held for herself so that she could recognize her potential? if she could do that, she could do anything.