Nene just blogged about her Christmas Memories, so I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring. My first memories of Christmas come in the Omaha house. I can remember how hard it was to go to sleep on Christmas Eve, and once we did finally fall asleep, it didn’t last long. We’d wake up wondering if it was morning yet. We’d laugh and talk, whispering in the dark about what we hoped Santa would bring. Finally, we would get up to sneak downstairs, usually only to find my dad there telling us it was only 12:30, and to go back to bed. Invariably, we would be up again and ready to open presents by about 4:30 or 5:00, and then we would line up, and rush out to see the presents.
I remember the year that someone got the rocking horse, I believe it was Nene, but it might have been Twist, though I really don't remember now. I just knew it was for me, and we did play for hours on that old pony before it finally gave up the ghost.
Probably the most memorable gift was my ten-speed bike, which I got along with a pair of leather gloves when I was maybe 14. That bike made me free. I rode it for miles. I bought a speedometer/odometer, and would ride up to 25-50 miles a day. I always wanted to ride it from Texas to Utah, but was never allowed.
The last major memory I had of Christmas came while I was at BYU. I went home that year for Christmas, driving down to Hatch, and meeting Inklings and her family. We then caravanned from there to Texas, with grandma. We had family come from everywhere to be there that Christmas, and you could hardly see the tree behind all of the presents. They were stacked almost 3 feet high, in a circle that came out almost that far from the tree, and once we added the Santa presents, it was difficult to even walk around in the room.
I have had many more wonderful Christmases since then with my own family, but none that were any more magical than these.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Stick.