On Holiday Memories

Funny things happen in people’s minds this time of year. In all the hustle and bustle of making sure we have the right gift for the right people, we sometimes forget to slow down and think of Christmases past. Or worse, we get bogged down in those memories we forget to enjoy what we have here today.

I was fussing with a box of botaname at my desk today, when it hit me: This was one of the tastes I associate most with Christmas. Botaname, for those who really don’t know, is rice candy. It’s usually a sweet rice millet wrapped in an outer wrapper-which used to be made of waxed paper-and an edible inner wrapper, and has a vaguely citrus flavor. It used to come-like Cracker Jack-with a small toy; now it comes with stickers that I would swear are made from the same stuff they make political bumper stickers from…because if you put it on something, it’s never coming off. It laughs at Goo-Gone, and is flame resistant; you’re better off covering it with something new. 

Most people either love botaname or hate it; it’s better if you can get a newer box and it’s softer. Mom-God rest her-always made sure I got two boxes, or roughly a dozen pieces, every year for Christmas for more years than I care to admit to. And while I buy my own throughout the year, it’s a taste I always associate with Christmas. The same for those pernicious chocolate oranges, Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk, and Swiss Colony’s Petit Fours. (For all that, most of Swiss Colony’s and Hickory’s Farm’s products.) We also got some sort of citrus fruit-not sure if they were tangerines or mandarines-in the toes of our stockings.  

There’s also certain smells I associate with Christmas. Things like the scent of the cheap candles from Candlelight Services at the church, a vaguely burnt electrical smell that meant Dad was soldiering something…or the TV was dying slowly…or we were losing (or had lost) a bulb on the ancient Christmas tree we had. Also model paints and cement, the smell of dinner cooking Christmas Day, the freshly cleaned tablecloth we put over that impossibly old table we ate dinner at, and the scent of new books that had been received as gifts. Two other smells come to mind: from 1985 forward, the chlorine that Dad used in the hot tub, and the Christmas Eve pizzas…either Skipolini’s or Strictly to Go.

Of course, there are sights as well, most of which only exist in pictures and memories: Mom and Dad at the house, waiting to have Dad take our pictures at the top of the stairs (I remember one year all three of us kids pulled cameras and shot the same time Dad did; I swear the resultant flash could have been seen from space!), standing in the front yard and seeing snow on Mt Diablo. The house and front yard belong to a new family; but I know Mt. Diablo still gets snow. 

The sounds of Christmas for me are of family talking softly so as to not wake anyone who’s dozing, the laughter as the sound of torn giftwrap fills the air, and music my folks had on an old reel to reel tape. (Much of which has been played so much by now I’m ready to move on, thank you very much.) Talking with friends excitedly about who got what, and, when I got a little older and was in high school, talking with whoever I was seeing at the time. Now I live with a wonderful woman that exudes Christmas all year ‘round, and I always look forward to coming home after work is done for the day. I’m blessed to have friends near and far, and loved ones as well.

All this to say, whatever your memories are-sights, smells, sounds, or the taste of your favorite candy-treasure those memories. But don’t get so lost in them you forget to enjoy the memories you’ll make this year. And no matter how you say it-Nollag Shona, Merīkurisumasu, or whatever…have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy Holiday if you celebrate something else! And may your coming year be filled with grace, peace, and blessings.