When I was growing up, most of my father's extended family lived close by. He had two brothers and one sister, and our cousins were a joy.
(My mother had one younger brother who was a fighter pilot in Viet Nam and ended up living in Oklahoma and then getting divorced. We were never close to those three cousins, two boys and a girl. One of the boys and the girl eventually took their own lives. My uncle remarried happily but then died in his 60s of bone cancer.)
We had the 4th of July at our house, which had a big back yard across the fence from scrubby hills. An uncle would take us on walks try to scare us along the way with his stories. We had a barbecue and lit fireworks until everyone had to go home.
For Christmas Eve, we crowded into my grandmother's little apartment and had a family buffet. My father's family was smart and funny and quiet, so you would hear murmuring with punctuations of laughter. Such a nice atmosphere. My grandmother wouldn't give it up even when she was near the end of her life.
It took roping and hog-tying to get my husband's family together. There was no gathering of family except on Christmas Day at my in-laws, and that was sporadic and disjointed. So we started the 4th of July and the Christmas Eve traditions at our house. We had 35 or 40 for dinner, except for the sulky adults who felt slighted for the evening and either sat in a parked car in front of the house or stayed in bed at home daring someone to come get them.
For the 4th was barbecue and homemade raspberry ice cream(the raspberries were ripe and I had plenty of cream) and fireworks. It was often cold, windy or even rainy, and more than once we lit fireworks in the driveway while we sat bundled in the carport. For Christmas Eve we had a Nativity scene, complete with sheep and camels and angels, and there were children running up and down the basement stairs, and food scattered in all the rooms. Until eventually, everyones' family grew old enough that they started their own traditions.
My mother in law added a Midsummer Eve's pancake dinner on the wood stove outside by the grapevines in her yard, and a Thanksgiving clam chowder open house in her kitchen. Everyone behaved themselves (except for the sulky ones sitting in the car) and surprised themselves by having a good time.
At events like this my father in law usually sat quietly by without offering to do or say much of anything. I found out decades later from FIL's younger sister that in growing up, their family did not have any holiday traditions, either, and it was apparent that my MIL and her widowed mother were a stranger to them as well.
(My mother had one younger brother who was a fighter pilot in Viet Nam and ended up living in Oklahoma and then getting divorced. We were never close to those three cousins, two boys and a girl. One of the boys and the girl eventually took their own lives. My uncle remarried happily but then died in his 60s of bone cancer.)
We had the 4th of July at our house, which had a big back yard across the fence from scrubby hills. An uncle would take us on walks try to scare us along the way with his stories. We had a barbecue and lit fireworks until everyone had to go home.
For Christmas Eve, we crowded into my grandmother's little apartment and had a family buffet. My father's family was smart and funny and quiet, so you would hear murmuring with punctuations of laughter. Such a nice atmosphere. My grandmother wouldn't give it up even when she was near the end of her life.
It took roping and hog-tying to get my husband's family together. There was no gathering of family except on Christmas Day at my in-laws, and that was sporadic and disjointed. So we started the 4th of July and the Christmas Eve traditions at our house. We had 35 or 40 for dinner, except for the sulky adults who felt slighted for the evening and either sat in a parked car in front of the house or stayed in bed at home daring someone to come get them.
For the 4th was barbecue and homemade raspberry ice cream(the raspberries were ripe and I had plenty of cream) and fireworks. It was often cold, windy or even rainy, and more than once we lit fireworks in the driveway while we sat bundled in the carport. For Christmas Eve we had a Nativity scene, complete with sheep and camels and angels, and there were children running up and down the basement stairs, and food scattered in all the rooms. Until eventually, everyones' family grew old enough that they started their own traditions.
My mother in law added a Midsummer Eve's pancake dinner on the wood stove outside by the grapevines in her yard, and a Thanksgiving clam chowder open house in her kitchen. Everyone behaved themselves (except for the sulky ones sitting in the car) and surprised themselves by having a good time.
At events like this my father in law usually sat quietly by without offering to do or say much of anything. I found out decades later from FIL's younger sister that in growing up, their family did not have any holiday traditions, either, and it was apparent that my MIL and her widowed mother were a stranger to them as well.
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