Christmas

My mother died December 13th, 1988. Christmas has never been the same. This may sound strange but the thing I miss the most is the Christmas stocking filled with goodies. Every year, from time immemorial, all of us kids (and parents) received a stocking (and they were real socks of your own choosing - no fancy store-bought Christmas-themed stockings) filled with goodies. Every year the goodies were of the same kind - a tangerine or two, Christmas candies, chocolates, candy canes, and a magazine. And while we waited patiently for the parents to wake up and get the gift-receiving morning on-the-road, us kids would eat our candies and read our magazines. It was a ritual, one I really miss. I could fill a Christmas stocking myself with my mom's Christmas goodies, but it just wouldn't be the same thing. I wouldn't be surprised by which magazine she chose for me that year or which chocolates she bought for all of us. And even though I was an adult when she died, my mom still maintained the Christmas stocking ritual for all of us who came home for Christmas.