Christmas Eve has always been my favorite night of the year. Each December, 24th, my family would gather in a big, jolly reunion to have dinner, exchange gifts and catch up. It would all happen at Grandma’s.
Grandma Eloise lived in an enormous Victorian house in Massachusetts, just a couple of miles away from Boston. The place had been inherited for many generations and so my cousins and I could pretend it was haunted and inhabited with ghosts from its past owners.
Uncle Jack would wear a Santa Claus costume and enter the house with a big bag of presents. You’d think it would have been awkward how he was never there to meet Santa, but we didn’t really miss him once we saw that huge red man coming across the living room.
Aunt Esther would prepare the salads and my mom would cook an oven-roasted turkey that was to die for. Grandpa always bought Christmas candy for everyone and my dad used to make Eggnog for the adults.
We spent all of our Christmas Eves this way until I turned eighteen and moved to Campus. That year, my grandparents sold the house and my uncle, aunt and cousins moved to Canada. We haven’t had a family Christmas since then but I can always remember those magical nights on December the 24th and share my memories with them on a big, jolly, on-line chatroom.
Of course it’s not the same, but the most important part remains –that we still gather together and have dinner on Christmas Eve.