I remember, like it was yesterday, my Grandpa Roger aka: Jolly Rog, talking about his longings for yesterday. When he spoke, I thought, ‘you make yesterday seem so tangible, I wish I could’ve been there in that moment in time with you.’
His wife, my Grandma Sue aka: Susy, always made yesterday seem so dream like, with lush greeneries, creeks and her best horse, Pat. The horse that would kneel down, so my grandma could get on.
There’s a type of attitude that ponders, meditates on and rehearses the former things. I’m a person who lives in the moment to the extent, that I rarely have any brain space to contemplate anything, except my current reality. Then, along comes Christmas. Every year at Christmas, the only thing that seems to flood my mind, is yesterday.
It’s been a long, long time since I got to sit down next to my grandparents and hear one of their all consuming stories. It’s been almost as long since I’ve heard the sound of my mom’s voice and her southern twang in all its glory. All of my grandparents, parents, uncles and many aunts have passed on. Those tales have gone silent and yet, I long to close my mouth, just to hear them one more time.
I’m not sure when it first hit me that closing my mouth and listening was better than talking but, it seems when we finally decide to close our mouths the only thing we’re left with, is the sound of silence. We seem to go silent when the ones who we long to hear, are no longer around to tell us their stories. Whether it’s family or friends, we always seem so ready to go on and fight for our right to be heard but, once we get it, it’s not as glorious as it had seemed.
When I was a child, I adored my parents and Grandparents. I didn’t need to be taught those things, that’s just the way that it was. My mom excelled in loving her parents too. Her acts of love towards them couldn’t be contained in within 1,000’s of pages.
I believe we teach our children how to treat their parents, by the way we treat ours. My mom loved and respected her parents and rightfully so. My dad, had respect and love for both of his parents, even though he came from a much different background than my mom’s.
Parents who are deserving of our love are, parents who give up all that they are to bring into this world another life. They are the parents who chose life over death, the ones who make choices for their children out of love, whether it’s popular or not.
My Grandma Susie left my mother in charge of 3 small children every day, while she went shopping or ran errands. As I got older, I used to call her ‘Money Bags’, because she always had money. We would both laugh at the thought of that name but, literally, she never worked and always had money.
My mother, due to being left in charge of her 3 siblings had a unique bond with each of them that could never be severed and, she was one of the most selfless mothers, I’ve ever seen or known to this day. My mother was a mother figure to all children of all ages. She was a rare jewel, a gift. No child ever felt unloved in her presence.
Only knowing my mom as my mother, I assumed all mothers made children feel important, loved and worthy of their time. I’ve learned this isn’t always the case. This is not to say she was perfect or lenient and it’s also not to say I always felt loved. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until she left this earth that I came face to face of the reality of the loss of extraordinary love.
I’m so grateful that I got to see, hear and feel a different reality when I grew up. Make a pot of coffee, sit on your most comfortable chair and let’s experience some of my favorite memories, together for this Christmas.
My Christmas experience started on the day after Thanksgiving, no Black Friday to tear us away from each other, no, no, no. We spent every minute together preparing the way for the next family event.
Watching my mother cook, bake or make anything in the kitchen left us in awe and wonder. We always got to help. We didn’t need titles or invitations, we wanted to be part of the smells, creativity and clean up committee by means of licking spoons, egg beaters or other utensils. My mother and Grandma always kept us engaged and entertained while they whistled and worked.
In our house, my mom and Grandma always made children part of what they were doing. We didn’t have an adults table and children’s table. I never saw that until I was an adult. As children we were never swept off into another room, told to play outside until dark or hushed for talking out of turn. We had a voice and unless, we were being disrespectful, we were always seemingly the reason for my parents and grandparents existence.
My mother used to pick up her sister’s boys, my cousins, almost every weekend, year round, starting with David, until they were teens or off in college. They were treated like our siblings. Family wasn’t an afterthought, dread or sickness, it was everything, an all encompassing experience.
The entire month of December, we were either shopping, wrapping presents, decorating or making special treats. The act of shopping was all part of the wonder. My dad was famous for Christmas Eve shopping extravaganzas. I loved shopping in downtown Lansing, Mi. on Christmas Eve.
My mother used to work at the Knapp’s department store, downtown. It was a glorious store. It was filled with anything that you could think of and the customer service was to be envied. The fragrances of cigar smoke, perfumes, divine foods, candies and pop filled the air. In my Motherland of Michigan, soda is called pop.
In the 60’s my daddy always smelled of leather, Old spice, VO5 and cigarettes. It was a smell that said, ‘I’m with my tougher than tough dad.’ My dad was all heart, class and true grit. Because, he grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in Lansing, MI., he was good friends with some mafia families and forever could out talk any Italian, “Father Guido Sarduchie”, he’d say, in a mofia type accent, then he’d start laughing 😂 hysterically. The stories of staying safe amongst thugs without ever becoming one, was the story of my dad’s life.
My dad held the line and protected the weak, like a hen protects her chicks. He was 100 percent for anyone until they crossed the line of injustice. If anyone did anything that harmed anyone, my dad, Fred Goodknecht, was there to see that justice was served. Nothing broke my dad’s heart more than injustice. How I miss that powerhouse of passion for the innocent.
One time on Christmas Eve, while we were shopping downtown, he looked long and hard at the pocket watches. After a time, he asked the polite sales clerk, whom I believe was the owner, to look at one. As he held the pocket watch in his hands, he began to tell me of a yesterday story about his Grandpa Hank and how much he had always wanted a pocket watch like his. His tall posture became that of a child’s longing for a yesterday that brought him one of the few fond memories of his childhood.
That year, because of that yesterday story from my dad, I, a child of possibly 5-6 years old made sure my daddy got the pocket watch of his dreams. I can still see that pocket watch, smell his after shave, cigarettes and leather and hear his heart and longings for the childhood with his Grandpa Hank.
Anyhow, we’d spend half of Christmas eve shopping, then the rest of Christmas eve wrapping presents and watching Christmas shows. Rudolf was always my favorite Christmas movie when I was growing up. My dad loved watching Christmas movies and special t.v. shows with the Carpenters or Andy Williams, to name a few, with us too.
My mom would be baking up a storm, she made candy, cookies, pies, cakes, cinnamon rolls and tons of other things. Baking was her specialty and my dad even got great at cooking bread one Christmas vacation.
Speaking of vacations, that was one of the times of year that everyone had a vacation. People used to spend time with their families at Christmas. Not just one day but, at our house, for an entire week to 10 days.
We always had out of town family staying with us at Christmas. My mom and dad were great about having people over. Our house was always packed with friends and relatives. Those are the greatest memories of all.
We’ve so lost that welcoming spirit. I remember when I was growing up, one of my mom’s cousin’s wive’s wasn’t interested in the art of hospitality. She seemed all too happy to keep everyone at an arms length away from her doorstep. So sad to miss out on the greatest blessing of all, family.
Not us, our house was full, to overflowing, all of the time. So often I hated it at the time but, now that I’m older, I realize my parents were the coolest for creating a place where everyone felt welcome. I’m so glad my parents actually cared about other people, to the point of inviting people over weekly, sometimes daily.
We grew up with an array of animals that my mom loved on, just as much as she loved on us. I was known for bringing home every stray in the neighborhood. Before I was commissioned to find their homes, we’d love on them, make sure they were well fed and then, when those moments were over, we’d troll the neighborhood looking for their rightful home. Once their homes were found, we’d bid our teary eyed farewell and return home. Often, I’d do this search by myself. I starting rescuing animals when I was all of 5.
My mother always knew what everyone wanted for Christmas. We didn’t give Christmas lists to our parents, we gave them to Santa. I used to think her radar for the perfect gift was a strange phenomena. As I grew older and no other person I knew had that same special gift in my life, l realized what it was about my mom that made her so magical, she listened and cared. If I could wrap up one word that describes yesterday to the world, that word would be care. There was one time many years after the era of my childhood, when my son Derek wanted Burger King. My mom drove Derek and Josh around for miles until they found one. The essence of that act exemplifies the essence of my childhood.
Yesterday, people took time out of their day to talk face to face with others. No one was on Facebook, Instagram or the like, we called people on the phone, wrote long, enduring letters or spoke just dropped in at folks homes.
Yesterday, we purchased Christmas Cards, filled them out and sent them to the ones we loved. We’d save the cards we received and hung them up the following year as a Christmas decoration.
I remember going to people’s houses and looking at all the Christmas cards, it was an awesome sight. I’ve purchased Christmas cards every year, only to be so stuck in the moment, I’d forget to send them or send them after Christmas. I so wish I had the time, my mom had. Maybe this year will be different.
If you notice all these adults, isn’t it interesting which adult that small child was looking at? L-R: Sondra, Phillip, Patrick, Margaret, Kay, Grandma Susie and Grandpa Roger.
I sincerely agree with and long for the yesterday that my Grandparents described. They were born before cars, at a time when without your family or neighbors, you’d probably die. If we live in the country, we get more of a sense of that but, I can tell you I live in the country now and although it’s better than a big city, it’s not the same country feeling that I had as a child.
How grand it would be for the Grandparents like mine to rise and shine and be all we can be. I pray that when we hold our Grandchildren we tell them of a childhood where family was an institution that was held together by love, sincerity and caring.
That we put the wonder back into our worlds. I hope for the goodness, wholesomeness and awesome imperfections of a yesterday, be talked about, empowered from and not forgotten. Time is the only thing in this life we never have enough of. Maybe our yesterday can be the glue that changes our today. Maybe we will get out of our rat race long enough to remember the good part of our yesterday.
Sure, there are many parts of yesterday that needed to change. But, is it wise to scrap our whole history for the 6% that needed to be eradicated. Quite honestly, it takes the good, the bad and the ugly to create a story worth telling. It’s never too late to rewrite our ending. I hope I started mine today.
L-R Freddy, Marie, Richard, Don, Mom, Me, Angie, Tammy and Cammy, Nancy, Grandma G, Nate.
Give Life! 