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bigtree

(90,285 posts)
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 06:43 PM 13 hrs ago

I was a cowboy Christmas of '67



...woke up one winter morning to find a cowboy outfit just my size under the Christmas tree, complete with fringe vest, fringed chaps, a red cowboy hat with a multi-colored rolled stitch around the brim, and two six-shooting pearl handled pistols which fired off rolls of red caps.

I wore that outfit everywhere until it wore out years later, storing all my cowboy gear at night in a smooth, rounded wooden chest by the window where I kept the rest of my toys hidden away until the next day arrived and I became a cowboy once more.

I almost didn't become a cowboy that year. Two days before Christmas, my older sister led me down to the cellar where the root beer Dad had made and bottled was stored, the same homemade brew that exploded one day and sliced his arm open so bad that Mom made me drive with him to the hospital. He had made his way there wincingly in our olive green Impala and I stood beside him as he got stitched up, just as he stood beside me when I broke my arm after he tried to straighten it out by himself and ended up racing us to the hospital in that same green Impala and I got my first plaster cast.

My sister Maria told me that day there was no Santa Claus, and she'd prove it to me in the basement. There behind the stacked cases of potentially explosive brew looked to be a pile of every toy we'd written Santa for, and more.

My sister looked triumphant, and, while I was a little excited to see the toys, I was a little bit crushed that she'd managed to spoil my visions of other-worldly magic and wonder with her selfish act of superiority; my know-it-all big sister beating me over the head with yet another tattle-tale truthing to shatter my childhood dreams.

"Nuh-uh,' I shot back.

"Uh-huh," she retorted - and before she could twist the knife any further, Mom appeared behind us and we scattered, denying we'd seen anything, but she'd heard everything. There was no punishment dished out for being down there, but it felt like I'd been caught trying to rob a bank.

That feeling of dread was still with me on Christmas Eve, and, no one was more excited and relieved to see the presents under the tree than I was. But before I could dive in, Dad called me over and said he was phoning Santa to tell him about my sister and me sneaking and peeking at presents. When he finished his strange conversation into the receiver, he told me Santa would forgive me 'this time,' and let me have my gifts.

It started out the most frightening Christmas Day ever in my life, and ended as the best one yet. It's really the only one I can remember well, except for the 'Christmas play' my sister wrote and organized around our piano for our parents in which I just stood there dumbfounded while my ballerina sister acted out her calculatingly prepared Christmas present which obviously designed to make me look like an ungrateful idiot.

Finally free from my penance, and after attacking every present and littering the living room with wrapping paper and ribbon, I quickly slipped into my new cowboy duds and went out back to play, popping off the red roll of caps through the pistols, then just banging the caps on the frozen ground with my shiny new pistol's pearl handles (no they didn't last long, not the caps, nor the pearl handles).


It's a cold and windy holiday this year, without any snow, but it's still a perfectly picturesque Christmas Eve with a dusting of sleet that fell just before dawn covering the street and sidewalks until it melted.

A pair of young deer are ambling around among the bushes I planted in the backyard, sheltering against the cold, even more of them likely to inch out one by one on Christmas morning to warm themselves in the dappling sun, taking refuge along with the fox who's waiting to pounce on the squirrels and birds who are gathering and feeding on the seed mix I scattered on the patio after I made coffee...

Here's a poem I wrote a while back... I wish everyone here a very merry Christmas! -ron


When You Smile at the Falling Snow

When you smile at the falling snow,
You're likely remembering joy and beauty,
Experienced over a lifetime.

From the very first time your parents,
Bundled you up with layers of long underwear;
Woolen trousers and several pairs of socks;
Oversized sweater over a turtleneck;
All crammed inside that impossibly small snowsuit.

You remember that first misshaped snowman,
Mixed with dirt and grass, and snot;
More brown than the white ground surrounding it,
Well-dressed in Mother's good scarf you borrowed,
Perfectly natty in Father's old cap.

There's hastily erected snow fort on the front lawn,
Fully fortified with a neat pile of perfect snowballs,
Smoothed over by stiffening, soaked mittens,
Too precious, maybe too deadly to actually throw.
The fort is everything; only room for friends, and you.

Was there ever a truly safe hill for sledding;
One without the sharp drop into the half-frozen creek?
A sledding hill without that fence at the end,
Or that busy street with cars whizzing by past the curb,
Threatening to drown, decapitate, or drive over you?

Soaked to the bone, soaked through seven solid layers,
Stubbornly ignoring frostbitten feet and swollen hands,
Struggling with your sled back up to the top of the hill,
Standing in line behind the big kids, you spot your sister,
Shivering from the cold; you're suddenly shivering, too.

I was able to recreate all of that winter magic, as an adult;
My own sons, layered and stuffed into impossibly small snowsuits.
We made our own dirty snowmen; sturdy snow forts;
And sledded down unsafe hills; scraping swollen knuckles;
Stubbornly shivering as we stayed too long.

It's snowing, and there's a family of deer in my suburban yard,
Taking refuge on the softer ground deliberately layered
With the trees' fallen debris and evergreen litter.
There's spirit here; they know it's safe from predators,
A perfect place to digest their food and nibble a bit more.

They startle when I open the door to scatter birdseed,
Standing perfectly still once more, when they hear my voice
Softly reassuring them there's no reason to run away.
They're covered with snow, and one is trying to lick flakes off of the other.
The snow is falling fast, and I'm smiling again.




My sons, decades ago
18 replies = new reply since forum marked as read
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MuseRider

(34,405 posts)
2. Why I declare
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 06:59 PM
13 hrs ago

you are the cutest lil cowboy I have ever seen!

Seriously, that is an adorable picture and brings a big smile as I was a cowgirl forever and actually still am.

Thanks for this. Your smile is just the right kind of smile for worn out Grandmas to pick back up and finish all the touches needed sooner than they will be ready.

magicarpet

(16,935 posts)
3. Nice cowboy outfit,...
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 07:00 PM
13 hrs ago

.... nice family stories.

A very Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones and a Happy New Year.

Dem2theMax

(10,405 posts)
4. I am alone, and lonely, on this day before Christmas.
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 07:53 PM
12 hrs ago

You have no idea of what your story means to me. It just brought back all of the warm feelings of family, and holidays, and the amazement when you would wake up in the morning and Santa had been there during the night.

Thank you so much for sharing your memories with us. It made me feel a lot less alone.

I hope you and your family have a very Merry Christmas.

Hekate

(95,274 posts)
6. Thank you so much for sharing, Bigtree. You'll never know how much it means to so many.
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 08:03 PM
12 hrs ago

🎄 🎄

richdj25

(192 posts)
7. Appreciate you sharing
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 08:09 PM
12 hrs ago

memories of family this holiday season. It was my older sister who destroyed our beliefs in Santa back in the late 60s by showing us where the goods were stored. At least I had comfort of 3 other siblings, who was also saddened by the news, but we somehow persevered.

Merry Christmas and bless you.

ReRe

(10,902 posts)
8. Forts and sledding!
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 08:10 PM
12 hrs ago

My sister was the best at sledding in town. No fear. Totally free. Magical.
We made great forts and wasn't any good at igloos. We liked to sit down inside
and have "meetings". Wonderful memories, bigtree.
Merry Christmas to you and yours & Happy New Year!

rasputin1952

(83,215 posts)
11. Thank you...
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 09:06 PM
11 hrs ago

It is times like this that bring back wonderful memories from my (and I'm sure many others) distant past.

If you have no objections, I would like to share your poem with my family tomorrow.

When I print it, I will be sure to leave out the picture of your sons, adorable as they are. I do not feel comfortable with
putting personal pictures, especially children, for the public to see.

I also have a radio program out of Boston College on Sunday mornings. May I have your permission to read this on the air?
My show is Truth and Justice Radio, WZBC Newton MA. (0600-1000 Eastern). It would be one of my closing pieces and
can be found at truthandjusticeradio.org where the last two weeks are archived, of course, you will be credited for the
piece I will also accredit DU and use your username. Your poem will be near the 0950 mark, depending on the timing of the material
I will be covering, and editing.

If you send me a recording of your voice reading the poem in a PM (mp3 format), it would be my pleasure to use that.

I do the show remotely, as I am now located in Lincoln, NE.

Sincerely,
Ras

MLAA

(18,668 posts)
12. You were one handsome cowboy! Based on this glimpse into your childhood, I'd love to read your whole memoir!
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 09:11 PM
11 hrs ago

Thanks for the memories. They made me think of my Christmases as a kid. At around 5 years old I’m sure I saw Santa by the tree putting together my beautiful navy blue doll carriage in what I thought was the middle of the night. Someone, I’m guessing Mom, gently steered me back to my room and tucked me back in bed only to wake up and run to the tree early Christmas morning. ❤️

Jack Valentino

(1,510 posts)
14. I was very much into Batman at that time...
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 09:40 PM
10 hrs ago

I think there is a picture of me in this house somewhere,
wearing the Batman mask and cape,

and my own underpants down below.


I won't try to find that photo tonight! JAJAJAJA

Merry Christmas everyone

Karadeniz

(23,527 posts)
15. What a cutie you were...probably still are!!!! Love the poem and the story. My
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 09:48 PM
10 hrs ago

brother got a cowboy hat and gun/holster about age 3. A photographer came to our house to take photos for our passports... we were joining dad in Japan. Well! After much arguing to get Rusty to take off his hat, mother gave up. His passport had him in his cowboy hat and tears in his eyes from almost losing his fight for justice. Then, in Japan, mother dropped us off for a kids matinee. Big mistake. A cowboy movie came on and Rusty, in his hat and toting his gun, ran to the front of the screen and began shooting at it, making the loud gunshot noises. I must have put the rest of that day into amnesialand!

LeftInTX

(30,573 posts)
17. Oh my! My mom would have never dropped us off!
Wed Dec 25, 2024, 03:23 AM
4 hrs ago

I think I was 11 or so when she finally turned me lose in the base theater!

One of our parents always joined us for the kiddie matinee. (Poor parents.....having to watch Little Rascals ad nauseum)

orleans

(35,239 posts)
16. i LOVED your story! you write so well. (are you a writer?)
Tue Dec 24, 2024, 09:59 PM
10 hrs ago

that's a cute picture of you and your sister. but santa? (shiver) he looks scary. i wonder if these impersonators are told not to smile. (like it would kill these guys to crack a smile)

was your belief in santa reaffirmed after your dad's conversation on the phone or did you have your doubts after that?

i'll tell you when the santa story changed for me: it's not that anyone told me there was no santa so that's good. what happened was that i realized santa's handwriting and my mom's handwriting were the same. i was probably seven or eight. i don't know. maybe nine (but nine seems too old).

anyway, i didn't want that happening to my daughter so i used a different handwriting on the tags. and i finally admitted to her that there was no santa when she was around 32 years old! LOL.

LeftInTX

(30,573 posts)
18. Cute pic, cool story (except for your and your dad's arms) and lovely poem. Merry Christmas!
Wed Dec 25, 2024, 04:12 AM
4 hrs ago

Can't believe he tried to fix your broken arm himself! I guess that is a cool story in and of itself! It reminds me of when my dad would tie my tooth with dental floss and threaten to attach it to a door knob and slam it. Fortunately, he never did and I would somehow pry the tooth out myself.

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