My memory is a like a brick wall. Battered a bit now and then but strong and mostly intact. The mortar is in great shape. Still holding the pieces together. But some of the bricks are missing. Just gone. And no warning. Random open areas where the bricks used to be. No pattern at all. The memories that remain are clear and accurate. The ones missing are not going to return. Not ever. Frustrating.
I was eleven. I suppose most eleven year olds nowadays want a cell phone for Christmas. That is, if they don’t already have one. A great feature is a clock that is accurate and illuminates. Very handy indeed.
We didn’t have cell phones when I was eleven. Most of us were still astonished by this miracle called “TV.” Some of us were lucky enough to have one, complete with the ever-present red, blue, green and brown film over the screen that made ours a deluxe model.
My wish list that year was short. Very short. In fact, I wanted just one item. A watch! I knew that the chances were slim. My usual gifts were a doll from Santa, flannel pj’s from my grandparents, and a stocking…small by todays standards…filled with tangerines and nuts. And I knew that watches were more expensive than tangerines and nuts.
I don’t recall how the tree got to our house. Did Daddy tie it to the top of the Willys? That brick is gone. Completely. However, my memory is clear as a bell about the placement of the tree in our family room. Always in a corner because it wouldn’t “stand up.” Leaned it against the wall in a corner between two windows. Wire was wrapped around the trunk and anchored on each side to eye screws placed in the frames of the windows.
The tree trimming, complete with “modern” bubble lights, was a family event. Well, mostly. My mother provided the finishing touch with careful placement of about a million icicles. After that, we could just look, not touch.
Back to the watch. For the first time ever, and with courage that was not at all characteristic of me, I snooped. I just had to know if I was getting the watch I so very much wanted. And I found it! Tucked under a stack of lesser gifts in my parents closet. On the right side. On the floor. Clear memory.
That Christmas is one I’ll never forget. I’m sure of it. And it was the worst ever. I don’t think my parents knew that I snooped. But I can still feel the false surprise I showed when I opened that long golden box. I’m not sure of the lesson learned that Christmas. I’ll leave that to folks who like to analyze that kind of stuff. But I still have that watch. Like me, it’s not quite as shiny or stylish as it once was. And, although it still functions, it sometimes has trouble keeping up……..just like me.
Another memory that has had a life-long impression on me occurred some years later when I was a student nurse at St Mary’s Hospital School of Nursing in Tucson, AZ. The hospital was founded in 1880. Although the front of the building was renovated, the back was in such poor repair that it was off-limits to patients and visitors. Student nurses were required to use the entrance as well as the ancient elevator at the back of the building. It was so scary and unreliable that even the nuns were afraid to ride in it! I am so grateful that a memory from that creaky cage all those years ago has stayed with me. It was the beginning of the holiday season. A flyer taped to the elevator announced a Xmas Arts and Crafts Fair. Someone had drawn an arrow to the word Xmas and wrote “Who took Christ out of Christmas?”
I wish each of you a joyful holiday season and a new year richly blessed with love, good health, and a full load of bricks.
- Sandi Howland Archer
