A nod to nostalgia this Noël

Christmas is on a Wednesday this year, folks. It’s a hump day holiday that has thrown me off completely.

I was scratching my head this week trying to remember the last time we had Christmas smack dab in the middle of the week, and do you know why? Well, apparently it happened in 2019, the last Christmas before the COVID-19 pandemic changed our world. It feels like a lifetime ago, and in many ways that’s true.

I publish two newspapers now, and one of them has to be sent to the printer 12 hours before the official holiday begins and the other 12 hours after it ends. That is the schedule two weeks in a row, of course, because New Year’s Day also falls on a Wednesday ... But I digress.

It was the last Christmas in the former New Rockford office on 8th Street. It was also the beginning of Transcript Publishing offering embroidery services and starting our in-house screen printing business.

In 2019 I also attended my last elementary Christmas program as a parent of kids in elementary school. A picture from that program came up in my Facebook memories last week and I recalled fondly the TV commercials written and performed live by my son’s fifth grade class during that program.

Speaking of TV, this year marked the 60th anniversary of the classic holiday special, “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” now officially the longest continuously-running TV special in the United States. I briefly mentioned to my family that we should mark the occasion by watching it together, just like my siblings and I did every year when it came on ABC.

That didn’t happen, of course, because it’s not the same now as it was when we were kids. Now you can stream (almost) any TV program you want, when you want. Except for “Yellowstone.” For some reason they were nostalgic for viewers to drop everything and watch one channel at the same time every Sunday night for six straight weeks, the way it was in the good ole days. Our family made it two weeks, then missed an episode on a busy Sunday. Now I don’t even know how the series ended, and I’m trying to avoid all the stupid social media spoilers until I can stream those final episodes on Netflix or Peacock.

Holiday nostalgia is seemingly all around me lately. When I was seeking out columns for this page, there were a few to choose from that were filled with memories of Christmases past. Tom Purcell, one of my favorite syndicated columnists who frequents this page, added the following notes about Christmas Eve when he was a child.

“We’d light the candles in the luminaria that lined our street – all our neighbors had luminaria, and our streets glowed for several blocks.

“Our next-door neighbors, the Kriegers, would visit for a few hours, filling our house with festivity.

“Then off we went to bed.

“My father would stack the old stereo console with every Christmas record we owned – ‘Holiday Sing-Along with Mitch Miller,’ ‘Christmas with the Chipmunks,’ ‘Snoopy vs. the Red Baron’ and Bing Crosby singing ‘White Christmas.’

“As the scratchy old records played – as my mother and father assembled and wrapped gifts in the living room below – I was so filled with excitement I could never sleep.”

I think almost every kid in America has experienced at least one sleepless Christmas Eve, filled with anticipation of Christmas morning magic. As an adult, I don’t get any sleep on Christmas Eve because I’m up wrapping all the presents for the kids.

My husband’s family has a group in Facebook Messenger where we regularly post messages and share information. One of his cousins requested recipes from the family to make a holiday baking cookbook for her kids, and several relatives posted their favorites.

Then the conversation turned to holiday greetings, and family members exchanged digital cards, family photos and Christmas wishes.

His cousin, the recipe book maker, got particularly nostalgic, reminiscing out loud about their family Christmases at grandpa Pete and grandma Donna’s house in Barlow. “I want grandmas house where the young kids hid in the basement waiting to see the black boots of Santa under the basement door … A house full of people we couldn’t even walk … My kids will never get to experience what I got to enjoy in my childhood,” she wrote.

I got a taste of those holidays, attending Wobbema Christmases as a girlfriend and new wife before Pete and Donna passed away about 18 months apart. Our kids didn’t get to experience their holidays either, for sure, but they have definitely experienced many family gatherings with full houses and lots of love, and for that I am grateful.

One of the younger members of the family, a new mom this year, chimed in with some pretty good advice for all of us who find ourselves wanting to “go back” to holidays of old.

“Your memories are special and made for you. Kids are blessings to create new memories and start new traditions! Enjoy each and every day you have with your family.”

May you all keep some old traditions alive and make new memories with your loved ones this holiday season.