I heard Judy Garland sing, Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas today and it brought back probably the best memory of my early childhood. It was Christmas morning 1966 and I was 4 years old. We were moving in a week and leaving for Texas. So you know, my family is the classic dysfunctional family. Incest was the dirty little secret and alcoholism and promiscuity were the way they dealt with life.
Perhaps because it was to be our last Christmas in that house, my parents went all out. My father went to the forest nearby and cut down a pine tree for our Christmas tree. My mother made a stocking for each of us and embroidered our names on them. When I came downstairs on Christmas morning I thought the tree looked like magic. I can remember decorations on the tree that I had never seen before and would never see again. It was the last year I really believed completely in Santa Claus and I was delighted to see my stocking above the fireplace filled with candy and fruit. It meant I had been a good boy. But then something very strange happened. My parents began acting like real parents. That morning they were both kind and loving and happiness filled the room. It was a magical transformation. We unwrapped our presents and took pleasure in each others reaction to their gift. For a few brief hours we were a real family, filled with love and joy for each other. All the lights on the tree stayed lit. My father was thrilled to put toys together and willingly let me help him. My mother was tender and kind. I was hugged and cuddled. I felt thoroughly safe and loved.
Since I was so little, I only have fragments of memory, so I cannot remember everything. But I wish I could. We were a sad family burdened by a pathetic excuse for a father and an even worse mother. But for that one brief magical Christmas morning they pulled it together and all was right with the world. They showed me what kind of parents they could have been, but werent. I would never see that side of them again. I can remember hearing strains of Dean Martin, Judy Garland and Elvis Presley in the background that morning on the hi-fi. Now that I allow myself to listen to Christmas music, I cherish hearing those songs again. That wonderful morning can live again when a family came together and a little boy was happy.