Merry Christmas

Well, everyone, tomorrow is Christmas day and I am wishing all of my dear friends for whom this day is important and celebratory, a wonderful and happy Christmas. I was thinking this morning of all the wonderful Christmasses we have celebrated over the years with good friends who have since passed away. Christmas is not our holiday, but good friends for whom it was important often included us in their celebrations, and we were happy to share their good cheer and the importance to them of this sacred and happy time. My parents, devoted Jews, were great celebrators. Every time the family was together, every time that we spent in the company of people we loved, of whatever religion, was a moment of celebration. At this time of year, I spend some time thinking of those generous people who included us in their holidays, and were not afraid to be incuded in ours.
I remember a lovely woman, Hattie was her name, who always included us in her Christmas. We kids (there were four of us) were little and I was the youngest, and it was certainly my first brush with the light and color and sweets and treats of Christmas. I can remember the anticipation of walking up the stairs to the apartment she shared with her husband, and seeing the tree with the colored glass balls and the "snow" and the tinsel and all the simple decorations of the early 1950s. Hattie was of Polish extraction and shared her special holiday memories and treats with us American California kids. She is gone now. She never had children, but attended Passover seders at my house sometimes when I had kids. She will be alive as long as I and my children remember her. But now I wish I had told her how I felt about those Christmasses past that she shared with us.
When we got older and lived next door to an devout Italian Catholic family, we shared their Christmas as well. The cookies were to die for, and the noise and singing and friendship and laughter were to live for. My grandfather and the grandmother from next door used to sit on the front porch and speak in Italian and keep each other company. I remember going to Louise's graduation from Catholic high school, at St. Timothy's on Pico Boulevard in Los Angeles. It was truly awe-inspiring. It was shared celebration. Mrs. Foti is gone now, and Jenny and Louis too, but I hope that they knew how very dear they were to me and how much I loved being included in their Christmas. I knew it was theirs and not mine, but I also knew how generous they were to share it with me.
Over the years, many other families have taken us to their very big hearts on Christmas and shared the joy of their holiday with us. When we lived in San Jose, the principal of the school where I taught, and her mother and sister, gave my children the same feelings of inclusion that other friends have done over the years. Jo, the mom, passed away last year, but I hope that somehow she knew what it meant to me that she welcomed us into her home, shared her holiday with us, gave us the benefit of her wisdom and love and made us feel like family when we were so far from our own.
So here in this short few paragraphs, I have said "I hope they knew" three times. I guess that I am reminded at Christmas, to not only hope that people know what they have meant to me, but to tell the ones that I am lucky enough to still have right here how much I love and appreciate them. Every year, the kids and I take a "Regina Amira Memorial Christmas Lights Tour" of the neighborhood. That was my mom, and she absolutely loved Christmas lights. She was such a kid at heart all her life. I loved the things, the joie d'vivre, the joy that she modeled for us, and the openness to good times and celebrations, no matter whose they were.
So take this time, this moment, to tell those you love and are lucky enough to have around still, how much they mean to you. And when someone wishes you Merry Christmas, Happy Kwaanza, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays, take in the meaning and forget the specifics and smile.