God bless us, every one!

Our mother was born on Christmas Eve. We made sure to celebrate her birthday independent of the Christmas rush. Daddy made dinner, so we always had steak, not your typical holiday menu, and quite a splurge for our large family. Mom’s favorite cake was this tricky-to-make three-layer spice concoction, which I made for her once I was old enough. Christmas Eve was for decorating the tree, going to church, entertaining family, and just being together.

Mom died when I was twenty-five, but we continued to serve steak at the family Christmas gathering, although eventually no longer held on Christmas Eve.

Daddy remarried, and he and MaryAnn had 15 years together before he passed, both counting themselves lucky to have found love twice in a lifetime.

***

Our father died on Christmas Eve. He was admitted to the hospital Halloween weekend, and never left. One crisis after another just wore his body out. I sat with Daddy all day on the 23^rd, and went home late that night to get some rest, leaving my brothers and MaryAnn to keep watch.

But in the wee hours of Christmas Eve morning, my doorbell rang. My doorbell never rang; it was broken. But that night, with no one at the door, that doorbell sounded two strong notes. And I knew right away that my father had gotten his wings.

***

My parents were good people. Like the spirits that appeared to Scrooge on Christmas Eve, they showed us a way of generosity and love.  My siblings and I carry our Christmas Eve traditions with us in our own ways, some decorate their tree, some go to church, some have steak for dinner. And every year, wherever we are, however far apart we are, we each raise a Christmas Eve toast to Mom and Pop – and family.

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The 300-word essay above was written for a Rehoboth Beach Writers Guild event that was cancelled back in February, but it gave me an idea. I have invited my siblings and their families to deliberately raise a toast to Mom and Dad and to the whole family sometime on Christmas Eve – using customized glasses that I sent to everyone, pictured in the heading. It’s a way to be connected when we can’t be together.

So raise a glass to the founders of our fam: Gerald and Agnes Lombardozzi, and to each and every one of us, near and far, here and passed on, immediate and extended. God bless us every one!