The holiday season seems to conjure up memories from the past more than any other time of year.
This can be a good thing, especially if you are recalling some of the fun times as a kid.
In actuality, remembering is even better than going back to being a kid. You have the adult wisdom to navigate life and as time passes a lot of the looking back brings laughter. Somehow you recall those really great moments and the memories that made you sad seem to fade.
Such as with this season for me.....
Three recent activities took me back to some fun times.
The first is always the selection of the tree.
Growing up in San Francisco we never had the opportunity to cut our own tree. We would drive up to a lot on busy 19th Avenue and support a tree lot where my father knew the proprietor. As a little girl I annually repeated the scenario of begging for a pink flocked tree. We never did get one. And now that I know what a mess flocking creates, it's a wonder why my parents would ever even allow a white flocked one in the house.
The second one was Sat. out with George for a downtown viewing of the Pioneer Courthouse Square tree - it's as close as we get to the Rockefeller tree in NYC.
We stopped in at the Benson Hotel for a drink and snack. Playing was a three-piece jazz ensemble. One of the songs they played was "Mack The Knife." That was a favorite tune of my Dad's. It was one where my Dad would whisk my Mom around the dance floor. They were smooth as butta' on the floor. If I closed my eyes I could still see them sweeping the dance floor.
It was such a favorite tune, we played it as a recessional at my Dad's funeral.
The third just happened today. While out Christmas shopping I saw a chunk of divinity fudge in a store. I am not big on sweets, but this one called to me. Without an ounce of hesitation, I purchased (and ate) it.
As a little girl, I will never forget the year Dad decided we would make fudge together - just he and I. He chose to make one of the most difficult ones to perfect - Divinity.
It wasn't as good as Dad's because it wasn't made by the two of us.
It did bring up the memory of how much my Dad did for me when my Mom was not well. With a bad heart, she spent some time in the hospital when I was very small. With all he had going on with his job as an accountant, he was also handyman, car mechanic, church volunteer and a good neighbor to many, he made time for me.
I liked that. But I probably appreciate it now more than ever.