Christmas is so full of memories for me, and more and more keep coming back, especially of the days at 17 Falconer Street, even earlier at 28 Washington Avenue. In Grandma's house we lived upstairs, at the bottom of the steps to our apartment was a small table holding the one telephone in the house, and under the stairs was a table. On this unlit table under the stairs, would be the gifts from Aunt El waiting to be brought upstairs and put under the tree. Barbara and I would look them over for hours, in complete rapture. Aunt El's gifts were special. Even before we unwrapped them, they were special. Beautiful paper, each package different, bows and tags with all kinds of beautiful decorations printed on them, a candy cane taped to the top. Our mother and grandmother were not wrappers, Grandma would just put something in a brown bag, or reuse some old wrapping paper, even birthday. Bucky was the same. I guess that's why Aunt El's presents stick in my head.

After moving next door, Christmas memories become more vivid. We had to wait on Christmas Eve for Daddy to get home from work to start decorating the tree. He would be working on it in the cellar, making a stand out of two pieces of wood. He then nailed a coffee can in the center and put the tree in that. Nothing fancy, but I don't even remember it falling down. We each had an area for our presents, for a long time, mine was under the tv, making me about twelve years old for that memory. As a teenager, I remember each year Daddy would buy each of "his girls" a small bottle of Chanel #5. That was precious and must have cost him dearly for he had five girls and a wife.

Christmas with my own children are full of memories...Maria getting a baby doll from Bucky as big as herself, as she tried to carry it around. Then our move to Tivoli, coming the Sunday after Thanksgiving, we looked forward to our first Christmas in our own home. Oh, yes, I remember the good times, but there were troubles too. The time we went to Mass and our dog Woofus ate the Christmas presents - Maria's ear muffs, Paul's GI Joe. Or the time I thought the kids were old enough to put presents under the tree early on Christmas Eve. What a mistake. The piles were carefully counted, oh Sabra's got more than I do. Then Paul realized that none of the wrapped presents in his pile resembled a round item (he wanted nobby tires whatever they are) that he went berserk, ripping a small hole in his pants larger and larger until they were in shreds.

Oh yeah, Christmas is full of memories, and they are ready to pop up at anytime. I'm still shopping so I better not get too nostalgic.