*I began writing this about 4 years ago, a rough draft and posted it as a blog when I completed it and the painting several years ago. When I wrote it I had an idea to expand it into something more elaborate, more personal and so here I have. Cheers!
A Boxing Day Story for the Poor in Spirit~
LAST CHRISTMAS
I'm told to always remember that whatever the person's age, from 1-101, perhaps younger, maybe even older, that while the body may begin to decline, show its age and be saying one thing, that the person's mind, thoughts, feeling and emotions can mostly remains the same, as confused as they may seem at times. All the desires, the hopes, the dreams, and the dreads are still there, the same, unchanged, as a child full of wonderment, joy and fear. At my age, I've found that sentiment to be true, in oh so many ways.
I was the kind of kid who woke up in the middle of the night, Christmas Eve, and went through his Christmas stocking, shook the presents under the tree, then sat on the sofa and watched out the bay window, with mothers bell collection filling it's ledges, in a "every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings", kind of way. I'd look about the neighborhood Christmas light displays and snow covered homes, in search of Santa, up on a rooftop. One cold, snowy, blizzard of a year, at age 12, I was awoken with such inner excitement and a bright eyed wonderment, that I had convinced myself I had seen him, Santa, on the roof of a house a couple blocks away. I squinted and strained to see, convinced that...maybe I had, maybe it was him, for reals.
I'm reminded that this year is the 31th without my mother, of whom I only had 28 Christmases in life. Covid & a longtime inner urging to move south, had sent my only living sibling, my sister, out of state. Her daughters, my three adult nieces followed, one to lead, 2 others in tow, following their bliss. This had left my only other immediate family, dad, who was still in the area, of whom our father/son relationship, over these many years, had not been without its own strains and challenges.
Growing up, I was fortunate to come from and have a large extended family. I knew 4 of my great grandparents, several 2nd aunts & uncles and a variety of 2nds & 3rds cousins on both sides of the family. Besides my mother having 6 brothers, 2 sisters and dad had 2 brothers. So, I was surrounded by lots & lots of cousins and now second great cousins...working on 3rds. Most lived in the same general area, just a few towns apart, the ones that didn't, would drive or fly in, for holidays & events, besides our family friends were always welcome too, of which there were many, many.
The good-times, gatherings, parties & celebrations seemed endless, with never an end in sight. Now don't get me wrong, while I remember these things with great joy & bliss and a certain wide eyed child naivety, I do know these times were not perfect. There was plenty of turmoil, divorce, alcoholism, misfortune, illnesses and deaths, just, to name a few. In a large family, it's inevitable, if not expected, but then that's life, getting real. Most everyone in my extended family and quite a few friends, had lived with us, my family, at some point, off & on, throughout my childhood, as well. So their lives were very much intertwined and a part of ours in a more wonderful & personal way. This was who my parents were, always there to lend a helping hand, for whoever and for whatever the circumstance. Still, for me, they, the people & times were indeed, perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, and my memories & thoughts tickle my aging and sentimental heart still.
While most years, between my husband's family and mine, we are usually pretty busy this time of year, visiting & celebrating. But, since covid, family turmoil and the rest scattered to the four corners, this had been a 2nd holiday covid year, having left Dad, my husband & myself to celebrate the holidays together. Dad had been getting up there in years and having some physical, emotional and mental health issues, so I felt whatever we did, it should be out by his hom. Besides, he still lived in the area I grew up in, which felt right. After some thought and consideration, I thought of the 3 of us going to Mack's Golden Pheasant for Christmas Eve dinner.
Mack's is in Elmhurst, Il. the town I grew up in. It was my first job. At 13-14 years of age, I was a busboy, then dishwasher, until I began to work my way up to line cook assistant, before quitting to find my true life path. Importantly I was the peppermint ice cream taste tester, checking those maraschino cherries out for freshness and of course those grilled pup burgers and steak fries for perfection...ha. Several of my aunts and uncles had worked there when they were youngsters and a grandmother, even waited tables trying to make ends meet while raising 9 children, in the early days. Even more so, several of my friends had worked there, some into adulthood. Family events were held there often, wedding banquets, funeral dinners, events, meetups, special dinners and even Easter brunches, that included my 3 nieces. I even hung out at the bar with a great many friends & family well into my 20s. We still go there on occasion. I had moved to St Charles 30 years ago, just down the street from the Silver Pheasant and also went there until it closed some 20 years ago. I've known 5 generations of the Mack's, from their family owned restaurant.
We picked up dad and headed for Mack's Golden Pheasant. We were seated by the fireplace, in the window room that looked out on their aviary, lit up in Christmas lights, which usually had pheasants and the like in it. I hadn't been there in some years, but the decor and cuisine had remained the same, outstanding, with a warm & cozy atmosphere and feel. Everyone was dressed smart casual of a sort and the tables were covered in white tablecloths and folded napkins. I ordered their renowned fillet, which came with a salad and soup, yes, both still. The baked French onion soup was still excellent, still made with cooking sherry and the most tender fillet served with onion rings over mushroom buttons. The garlic dressing was still savory and unchanged, plus a fluffy baked potato, butter, sour cream & chives, all were still top notch delicious, the apple strudel out of this world, perhaps, impart, the nostalgia of it was filling my heart and soul, as well as my tummy too.
After a couple of hours of good eats and conversation I got out my cell-camera and video panned the room, fireplace, dad, our table, the festive people, my hubby, and outside the window room with its decor, holiday appropriate. As I continued to pan the room, with my cell, I had an overwhelming sense & feeling they were all here with us…the people, ghosts of past, present & future. I had decided to walk about the restaurant having excused myself to use the restroom. The smell of burning pine filled the room from the open, two sided fireplace where we had been seated. As I walked about, in my mind's eye and sentimental heart, an old friend was waitressing, I gave her a wave, a wink, a smile and a Merry Christmas, so as to not disturb her work. A couple stairs up from the window room, I looked about the room and saw more family and some old friends celebrating the holiday season, I noticed some members missing. There was my best friend, from when we were kids, his wife had passed on a couple-three years earlier and his mom was my moms best friend too, we smiled at each other. I stopped to say hi briefly wishing happy holidays and our faces revealing life's passing and its times of stress, unspoken to each other. The walls were covered in the same quaint Bohemian Czech decor they had always had. tapestry's, paintings, stuffed bird domed glass panorama's and butterfly displays, quite homey and inviting.
Such a wonderful old world flavor that you just don't see, much less experience anymore, I thought to myself as I wandered and remembered further. My memories flashed as I looked about the bar, there were my grandparents, where both sides used to hang out, now long gone, some aunts and uncles and their spouses, many friends and other friendly faces. Grandpa, mom's dad, donned his hat to me, and gave a Bob Hope laugh. The faces of some, long ago having moved on, from divorce or having departed this life, but all the same, here in my fond memories. I raised my glass in a toast to them and my heart filled with love for them all. As I see an ex wife, an old girlfriend on an emotional high and a longtime lover, all, now gone too. I gave a nod to the bartender, looking aged now, but in my thoughts a young man in his 20's, the son of the owner, just starting out, being tutored in the family business way. It was he, when I was a young teen, who made sure I was able to taste the maraschino cherries on the dl for freshness. I had worked for his father and his grandmother, the original owner who lived in the apartment upstairs, so sweet, so charming.
I walked down the long flight of stairs to the banquet area, the room was full and festive. In my thoughts it was my sister's wedding reception again, she's so happy and I'm happy for her. I walked the room shaking hands, giving hugs, giving out a wink , a smile and a wave as I did a lap through the festive room. So many, now gone, either passed on or moved on to new pastures or life adventures. I miss them all. There's an uncle getting loud and obnoxious, another slipping off his stool from to much drink, another is flaunting his girlfriend, of whom I have a huge crush on, another is putting on the ritz, still another talking about fishing, a great aunt, grandmas sister, wants to get high with one of them, they do, another uncles up in the bar because his ex wife was invited but he doesn't want the scene, so he avoids it, an aunt giggles, she's my godmother, still another speaks with her now, Texas accent, my dads brothers are both there, ones ex military the other a truck driver and I notice dad's had way to much drink again and I'm glad I don't have to drive home with him, mom just shakes her head and smiles, knowingly anticipating what's going to happen when they get back home. My cousins are all a buzz, all too young to fathom anything about what's going on, except for being a kid or young adult, as if there's anything we ever thought about, in the moment beyond that. More friends and family flood in the room and not one of us registering that this is just one of a number of fleeting moments of our lives, as we are present. I can not shake the feeling that, that was then and this is now and they're all gone, my heart yearns for them.
So I go back upstairs as dad and my husband are probably wondering where I've disappeared to. As I circle the room one last time, I see several tables have been pushed together for a large family gathering and I remember one of many times we gathered for a dinner break, during a family wake. I scan the faces now there and laughter, joy and smiles prevail the scene. I stopped at the wall of windows that looked out on the garden patio, my breath fogged the glass, a light snow had started to fall, the first of the season, on the holiday lit and decorated area, a few birds were nestled on branches to keep warm. I went to sit down and my husband asked, is everything ok? I shake my head to indicate, of course, my eyes are obviously glossy holding back a joyful tear, and suggest we have the hostess take a photo of us. Dad sits, my husband and I stand, hands on shoulders, embracing and smiling one last Christmas eve, a fleeting moment, now a memory. But I have a warm feeling that all those family members and friends, from days gone by, were there with us, if not in presence, certainly in fond memories and spirit. And I think to myself, in the words of Charles Dickens' Tiny Tim character, "God bless us, Everyone."
Dad passed on earlier in 2024, just a couple months after his 81st bday and Mack's closed its doors a week before Christmas, the same year, last year. So it is, January 14, 2025,which would have been dads 82nd bday, and just the other day I saw a video clip of the restaurant being demolished and the sign being knocked down, now forever lost to time and memory...so it is I write it all down, because for now I remember it clearly with a great love for all those who have come and gone, passing, for one reason or the other, through my life and mine there's.
Richard Sperry
‘MACK’s a 1st Snow’ 24”x24” oil
Me, Dad & Don Christmas 2022