Christmas letters, past and present.
Posted by Leah Hemenway on Dec 21st, 2007
Home Alone 55
I’ve always loved Christmas family pictures and especially Christmas letters. I stare dreamily at these pictures and think, “They look so happy. They all get along so well. They are all smiling at the same time… We need one of those pictures.” When I show my children, I get some strange reactions.
“You’ve got to be kidding. I’d be so embarrassed if you sent a picture like that to someone I knew.”
Or my favorite response after our son studied the picture, “Somebody paid them.”
Then I read these great Christmas letters that say something like. “Johnny was an all-state debater … Fred’s band went to the Rose Bowl, and Dad took the entire family on a fun cruise.” I want to write them back, “Why is everybody smiling? Didn’t anybody in your family just sit in front of the TV and play video games all year?”
Every year I’d try to compose our family Christmas letter. One year I’d write, “This has been a banner year, a record of three teenage car wrecks, no injuries. Now before you reach the wrong conclusions: we do have three teenagers." Or I’d report that “Leah (I’d really get a kick out of referring to myself in the third person) got lost taking Zach to his soccer game and Zach missed the entire game. He finally forgave her as a Christmas present.” Or I’d describe how Arna got kicked out of Sunday school classes for refusing to stop playing dead. “His mother had to be called and Arna was removed from the premises.”
I was really tempted to write a Christmas letter the year of the “big break.” I’d start the letter, “Leah was brushing her teeth when she heard a loud noise. A passing teenager had just hit our parked station wagon and left the scene of the accident. Luckily, the kids at the bus stop gave Leah the driver’s name and address. You may ask, ‘Why include this in your Christmas letter?’ Three days later on December 15 we received enough money to fix the car and instead had the best Christmas ever…” I decided against the letter that year.
Another year I’d write, “Our fate often rests on the success of our football or basketball team. This was not our favorite year…"
I always like the Christmas letters that tell about travels, new children or grandchildren, or moving. So I would write, “Our college student has moved to another student apartment, which is code for bad place. We have wired the refrigerator door closed and plan to defrost all of next week.”
Or one year I thought I’d do a state of mind report on the 8 children: “Oldest—unhappy; Next—medium happy, Middles—cynical, pessimistic, unhappy, happy, oblivious; Youngest—naive.”
Other years I’ve written drafts that sound more like laments than Christmas letters. “We’ve had some great luck with toilet training this year. If we can get him to go inside, it would clinch it… Our teenager may have a boyfriend whose entire back is covered with a tattoo of Calvin and Hobbes. We have designated our youngest to discreetly inquire about this. We did settle the mystery of the broken side window. Right before we called the cops, a neighbor reported that he saw one of our teenagers use a brick The guilty teenager explained that he had a report inside the locked house worth 20% of his final grade.”
Or another memorable year, “Yes, our cat had a mess of kittens under one of the teenager’s water beds. We successfully extracted mom and kits and established them in the playpen until further notice.”
Sometimes the messages would seem too complicated. “We are happy that Zach was born in July this year. Unfortunately, one of his sisters had to cancel her slumber party. Zach’s arrival also interrupted a painting project. While Leah was in the hospital, the teenage painter dropped a gallon of peppermint pink paint all over the white carpet and down the heating vent. Clean up was fairly successful, but we still smelled paint when we turned on the furnace.”
Or I think of another special year when Arna was born on December 17, I’d announce in the Christmas letter: “Arna came home from the hospital during a spectacular ice storm. Bob and Zach were coming in the house, just back from the hospital. Bob was holding Zach’s hand and they both fell down. While Zach was not hurt, Bob drove himself to the hospital and got 4 stitches in his forehead.”
I like the idea of a clear Christmas letter. This year might be my year. I could write, “Great year. Adult children employed. 8 grandkids. KU: 11-1, Orange Bowl. December 17, Arna 20; no more teens. Downside, we’re old. P.S. Picture unavailable: everybody too happy to stand still.”
at 10:46 p.m.
This is the best one yet!