Everyone Has a Story to Tell

My pet cow Angela


Since everyone abhors Christmas trees, Santa Claus, and reindeer, I thought I'd start a new tradition of having a "Christmas cow" (hey it has to be halfway religious since baby Jesus was born in a stable). Just kidding. I'll get to the meaning of this picture in a minute.
I hope you all are enjoying this wonderful Christmas day. To me it's actually more like the day after Christmas since our big Christmas celebration is on Christmas Eve. Every December 24th my dad's side of the family gathers to eat lots of food, enjoy each other's company, and to celebrate Christmas. When I was younger, this time symbolized a time to sit at the "little kids" table at dinner, out of harm's way and away from anything breakable. It also was a time to fight over who got to play "Santa" and hand out presents and a time to show off our wonderful piano skills by plunking out "Jolly Old St.Nicholas" 5 million times on the ancient, out-of-tune piano that sat in my grandparents' living room. After all was said and done, my dad's four siblings, seven cousins, and I returned to our respective homes to sleep, our heads filled with dreams of snow and Santa.
This Christmas Eve, my grandparents' house being nothing but a pile of rubble, we gathered at my aunt's to celebrate Christmas. Though much older and weaned from my piano plunking, I was still banished to the "little kids" table for dinner along with my seven cousins. Having enough stuff, my focus has shifted from what's under the tree to the people sitting around it. One of the things I like most about Christmas (Eve), is being able to catch up on the lives of my relatives and all the stories that are swapped of my aunts and uncles, grandparents, and the "Good Ole Days." Last night was no different. Being an avid scrapbooker, my aunt had recently scrapbooked our family history, starting with my great-grandparents and ending with her childhood. I listened with interest as each page of pictures evoked stories of my grandfather and grandmother and their children. Each story brought the pictures to life, and I realized that these stories contribute to who I am today. The pictures of the herd of cows my grandparents owned standing in snow and the fish tale-like stories of how my dad and his siblings had to "go out and chop the foot-thick ice off the pond in 50 below temperatures" are the reason for the picture shown above of my pet cow (a great-granddaughter of the frost-covered cows in the picture) and me. So as we sat around the fake-log fire sipping hot apple cider and reminiscing, I learned that each person has a story to share and each picture has a story and it is those stories that define who we are today. If you get a chance, grab a mug of cider, sit down, grab some old photos, and take time to swap stories. Maybe if med school doesn't work out, I'll just go around to nursing homes and homeless shelters and listen to stories.
Anyways, I'm off to try out my new "kicks" and burn some Christmas calories on the treadmill downstairs. Have a Merry Christmas!!!