The Christmas time machine prompt…
Prompt: If through the use of a time machine, you could travel back in time to briefly revisit any Christmas moment in your life, which one would you chose and why? The word to use is “gingerly.”
Lori’s: It’s Christmas, 2006. My dad is still alive. I can’t remember if this is that Christmas he drank too much and mocked the Nativity story, Christianity, and ‘the little baby Jesus” during dinner. It may have been the Christmas he imbibed too much, put on headphones, and sang along to Hendrix’s “Hey Joe.” It could have been the Christmas he gingerly showed my son how to use an electricity tester tool.
It might have been the year I made the perfect beef rouladen, Dad’s favorite, and he asked my mother why her rouladen wasn’t as good (even though it was her recipe). Or, it could have been the year when I bought a pre-made turkey dinner and he told me that he really liked it better when I made the turkey myself.
It could have been the year fumbled through the Taboo word game, tipped the Jenga tower on purpose, dozed off during dominoes, or argued with me over Irish whiskey.
It was definitely the year he opened his gifts and said, “awwe, you didn’t have to get me anything, being here is enough.” It was the year he told Megan she was a cutie. The year he pored over the world atlas with Spencer. The same year he asked Kevin why he believed in God. And, it was the year and told me my house was perfect and he wished he lived there. I know it was that year because that was most years since I remarried in 1999.
I’m settling on Christmas Day 2006 because it was his last Christmas on earth and I’m going to want to take more mental notes.
Kevin’s: I want to use the time machine to visit Christmas 1972, the last year my immediate family celebrated Christmas together.
I want to rejoice in every smile shared and savor the moments of seeing my parents and all of my siblings young, healthy and happy.
I want to see my older siblings, Mark, Mary Jo, Tim and Terry, and Katie crowded into our family living room with me and my younger brothers, Patrick and Mike, and my parents, too.
I want to watch the opening of gifts and marvel at all that my parents were able to provide to so many children.
I want to see my family gathered together at the dining room table, enjoying the home-cooked meal and talking about the day.
Most of all I want to pay close attention to my brother Tim. I want to hear his voice, watch his mannerisms, share his laughter and see him smile often. I want to memorialize all of it, because Tim will be taken from us four months from that Christmas Day, killed in a car accident.
Christmas 1972 was the Christmas I learned the greatest gift we can offer each other is time together, the opportunity to sit, to talk, to eat, to listen, to laugh, and to share.
