This is the part two
of the story, Purple Memories.
My Christmas gift to you.
By Mary Vee
Traditions in Grandma’s house, whether seemingly good or silly, became the substance for everything from the menu to the order of events to required apparel. Despite current trends in clothing, all the ladies wore dresses and all the gents wore suits, no matter their age, including babies.
In keeping with their custom, Christmas decorations, several fish dishes, deviled eggs, potato salad, and much more filled the dining room table. Ruby red candles served as the centerpiece.
Buffet style replaced a sit down meal after the family grew too big to sit together at the table.
As the last dishes landed on the few open spaces, Grandpa called everyone to gather near the food. He put his arm around Grandma and while some of the moms hushed their little ones, and he said a prayer of thanks for the food.
"Amen," the blossomed family of thirty-two echoed.
Uncle Luke lunged forward, grabbed the first plate, and snatched a handful of deviled eggs. A trail of grandkids followed the favorite uncle around the table, scooping only the foods they liked onto their plate. Like the Pied Piper he led the crew into the living room where they sat in a circle on the floor.
The perfect vantage point to stand in line was near the end. It not only provided a space between Leah and uncles hankering to pull practical jokes, but also a great view of the fun. Grandma and Grandpa insisted on standing at the end, too. They obviously knew the advantages as well.
Using a sidestepping slow dance behind the others, Leah made her way around the table, skipping the pickled herring and other fish dishes. The year after Grandma heard she didn’t like fish, a few of her favorite foods appeared on the table. Such a thoughtful woman.
Leah held her plate close dodging the little grandkids who raced back to the dining room for cookies, stepping over the feet of giggling older girls sitting on the stairs, and ducking under a flying balloon. She sat in the last open chair, nestled safely to the side and next to Grandma’s favorite place. This may not have been the wisest choice.
All the little ones knew they could escape tickling uncles by running to Grandma to be safe.
Luke unfolded his long legs and stood, holding off the young ones pawing at his legs. “Hold on, I need more fuel. Mashed potato monster!” The kids ran to hiding places freeing him to carry his plate to the dining room. “Hey, where’s the taters, Precious?” He picked up the empty bowl and walked toward the kitchen.
One by one the grandchildren popped from their hiding places. “Grandma, when can we open the presents?”
“We have to wait for Uncle Brian and his family to get here. They should be here soon.”
The children huddled together and whispered. “Let’s get Uncle Luke!”
Mere seconds after they ran toward the kitchen a loud thud followed by a groan came from the kitchen and the kids fled. Luke stumbled into the living room, mashed potatoes clinging to his suit, hair, and hands. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Sure you are.” Grandma winked to the others. “All right, get changed.”
“Who wants to explore the attic with me after I change my clothes?” Luke turned to his pint-sized audience.
“I do!” No trampoline could have power their jumps as well.
He turned to Leah. “Would you take them up there and keep them busy for a few minutes?”
Although she knew how to find the attic, she’d never gone beyond the door. “Sure. I can do that.”
………The third layer of this six part story will be unwrapped next Monday.
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