I loved all holidays, except for Labor Day because school started the next day and who could have fun when their stomach was doing flip flops with worry? Anyway, I loved all the other holidays, but my favorite was Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning.
Grandpa Russell was born on Christmas Eve, so we always had a big birthday party in the middle of the afternoon with all our Russell family. We would have a big dinner and birthday cake and visit and have fun.
We didn't get together that often with the Russell side of the family, at least not compared to the Johnson side. Every Sunday we went to Grandma Johnson's house, and often during the week too, so I was as close to those cousins and Aunts and Uncles as I was with mom and dad and my brothers and sisters. But we didn't do things that often with the Russell's, and I wasn't as comfortable around them. Still, it was always fun to see them and after awhile my shyness wore off and I enjoyed myself.
As soon as the birthday party got over we would hurry home, pick up the food mom had prepared, and hurry over to Grandma Johnson's for our annual Swedish Christmas Smorgasbord. It was always the best night of the year. Grandma and all the Aunts cooked the most delicious dinner for us of Swedish meatballs, potato salad, fruit salad, lympa bread, rye crackers and cheese, rolls, and moss pudding and spritz and pepperkaker cookies for dessert. Oooooooooohhhhhhh! It was to die for!
Grandma's Swedish meatballs were the most delicious things in the world. She made them from hamburger and pork sausage, with white pepper for seasoning, and they were just spicy enough to be savory, just juicy enough to make your mouth water, and just just big enough to pop one in your mouth whole without looking like a pig. I popped lots of them in my mouth over the course of the evening. After I grew up I discovered that most people put gravy on their Swedish meatballs and serve them over rice, but grandma never covered them up like that. We just ate them plain, and boy! were they good!
So was the rest of the meal (although I never tried grandma's pickled herring which she served in a white sauce and looked disgusting! She made it to take the place of lutfisk, which was the traditional fish dish served in Sweden on Christmas Eve that everyone joked about and said smelled as bad as it tasted. I think we may have had it once or twice, but usually we had to be satisfied with the pickled herring. Since I wouldn't try either one that didn't bother me.) Anyway, the rest of our smorgasbord was also absolutely delicious, especially the moss pudding. I suspect "moss" was actually a Swedish way of saying "moose", because moss pudding was a wonderful pineapple fromage, fluffy and light and full of whipped cream, like a French moose would be.
Since Santa always comes to Swedish homes on Christmas Eve, grandma arranged for him to come to our smorgasbord, too. He would tell us kids that he just popped over to see us because grandma was such a good friend of his, and then he'd tell us he would come by our house with the rest of our presents after we went to bed. Boy, did we think we had a special grandma since she was a friend of Santa's.
Our Smorgasbord wouldn't last too late, since all the aunts and uncles and cousins needed to hurry home so Santa could come. We would pile into our car and sing Christmas songs all the way home, making sure dad drove down Main Street so we could see the pretty lights strung from light pole to light pole, all the way down the center of town. They were beautiful!
The closer we got to home the more excited I would get, anticipating the wonderful presents I would find under the tree Christmas morning. Even when I was a teenager I still couldn't go to sleep on Christmas Eve for excitement, even the year I knew what all my presents were going to be.
I liked to snoop. I'd known since I was five years old that she was really. My dumb cousin had whispered the truth to my older brother. I cried and cried because they wouldn't tell me what the secret was, until mom finally got fed up with them and made Keith tell me what Evan had told him. What a bummer! But it didn't dampen my enthusiasm for my presents.
Anyway, I liked to snoop. Trying to find my presents was almost as much fun as opening them on Christmas morning. When I was fifteen I got lucky and found them all. I already knew what some of them were since I'd been at the store when mom bought them. There was a four foot long, pink, fuzzy stuffed snake that I'd fallen in love with in the toy department and pointed out to mom. There were white go-go boots that I'd begged for the previous spring when they were all the rage but mom couldn't afford them. I knew she bought them during the summer when they went on sale, and hid them in her closet for Christmas. I wasn't that excited about them anymore, since the fad had passed and no one was wearing go-go boots to school anymore. There was also a pretty little glass oil lamp filled with perfume that I discovered way up on the top shelf of mom's closet that I simply adored. It was the prettiest thing.
That Christmas Eve Santa gave me a puzzle for my gift from grandma Johnson. I loved puzzles, and since I couldn't fall asleep I set it up on a card table in my bedroom and began putting it together. Pretty soon mom came and told me to go to bed. I tried, but I just couldn't stay asleep. I'd lay in bed with my eyes closed, and eventually drift off for a little bit, but I'd jerk away a few minutes later and lay there trying to fall back to sleep for what seemed like hours. About 2:00 in the morning I gave up, rolled a towel and stuffed it under my door so no one would see my light, and went back to work on my puzzle.
About 3:00 Linda woke up and joined me. We were trying to be quiet, but pretty soon Julie and Sharon were also in my room, giggling and playing on my bed. That woke up dad, and he was sure cross when he opened my door and ordered us all back to bed.
"Don't you dare get up before 8:00!" he ordered.
He always said that on Christmas Eve, but we knew he'd let us get up long before then, so we went back to our beds to wait. I managed to sleep for about half an hour, but at 4:00 I got up again, put the towel back, and worked on my puzzle by myself until 5:30. Julie and Sharon sneaked into mom and dad's room and snuggled up with them, twisting and turning until Dad finally gave up and let us all get up.
How exciting it was to put on our robes and stand in the hall, waiting for dad to set up the movie camera so he could catch Christmas morning on film. How much fun everyone else had opening their presents and exclaiming in surprise over each of their gifts. And how let down I felt, knowing what each box and package held for me, and not being surprised one bit. I sure wished then that I had not snooped and found all of my presents.
Worse, I opened all of the packages with my name on them but did not find the pretty little glass lamp I'd found on mom's top shelf. I immediately knew what had happened. It was so high up she had missed it as she wrapped the gifts, and she had forgotten it was there. But what could I do? If I told her she would know I'd snooped, but if I didn't tell her I wouldn't get my lamp. Darn. I tried hinting, reminding mom about the year before when she'd forgotten to give someone one of their presents, but she didn't catch on..
We ate breakfast while I was still trying to figure out how to get my present, and then everyone kind of went their separate ways. The little girls went off to play with their toys, Linda and the boys went to their rooms to examine their loot, mom and dad went to take naps, and I sat on the couch and grumped. This Christmas was no fun at all, and I wanted my lamp! Mostly, I was grumpy because I hadn't had enough sleep, but I didn't feel like taking a nap. Christmas was over and I wanted something exciting to happen. Darn.
Mom woke up about noon and I tried hinting again that maybe she had forgotten a present. This time she remembered, and she apologized all the way down to her room, laughing at herself for forgetting to give me my gift. I assured her that it was OK, and I didn't even mind that she hadn't wrapped it, I was just so pleased to get the pretty little lamp. And it was nice, but you know what? It didn't make me any less grumpy. I was still cross and tired and feeling let down. Most of all, I was mad at myself for ruining my own Christmas.
About 2:00 I got the bright idea that I should go to the movies. At least that would be something fun to do. Camelot was showing at the theater, and I adored that show. So I begged mom to let me take Julie with me, and finally she gave in. There wasn't anything else going on that afternoon, and although it felt kind of wrong to go to the movies on Christmas there was really no reason for us not to go.
So I took Julie to see Camelot on Christmas afternoon. There was one other person in the theater, which was bizarre all by itself, and we ate popcorn and cried and forgot what day it was as we watched that sad show. Later, when we walked out of the theater into the early evening and remembered it was still Christmas day, I made a vow to myself. From then on, no matter how curious I got, I would never, never, never snoop for my Christmas gifts again.
And you know what, I never did.
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