Uncle John's Gift

Fifty years ago on the Saturday before Christmas, my cousin Vickie and I played on the floor of my grandfather/uncle's living room. We were making necklaces out of plastic beads that Vickie had brought. I was seven and Vickie was ten. My Aunt Barbara, my mother's youngest sister, came over and put her arms around us saying, "Vickie and Dorothy are my two favorite little girls in the whole world". That's all that I can remember about that particular night. I don't know whether that was the first party or just the first party that I can remember in that house on Church Road. 

This past year on the Saturday before Christmas, I drove down to the same house -  in an area appropriately called Plymouth Meeting - for our annual family reunion - my Uncle John's Christmas party. Uncle John is my mother's little brother. Uncle John is a life-long bachelor who lives alone and has been hosting a Christmas party in his house for about fifty years. It is his gift to the family. It is the only chance that some of us get to see each other, and many of us, like the wise men, have to come from afar.

The wise men were following a star. I was being guided by my GPS. I was nervous because I was going there alone for the first time in years. The way down wasn't so hard, but I was glad to have the GPS on when I reached Church Road. There was always this confusion when we got to that road about which house was the correct one, because they all look alike. I kept thinking, "That has to be the one" as I passed each house along the way. Finally, the GPS told me I reached my destination, and I knew that was correct because of the large number of cars parked on the street outside. The temperatures had dropped to a record low that night, but somehow, I didn't feel cold. Standing outside the front windows, I looked into the living room inside, and wondered again if I had the right house. There were several young people standing there who I did not recognize. Soon though, I spotted Aunt Barbara's face, and knew it was safe to walk in. If I had thought, I could have just looked up at the familiar portrait above the sofa, on which is a silhouette of a woman with no clothes on. The painting was tastefully done. It is obvious that the painter was seeking to have an artistic effect, not a pornographic one. Less innocent is a calendar in the back storage room from August 1993 on which there is a picture of several half-naked women mooning the camera.  

Several people yelled out to me but I couldn't see who they were because my glasses had fogged up as soon as I entered the house. As I made my way to the table in the back which was covered with food, different family members walked over to hug me. Everyone looked older except for Uncle John, who just doesn't seem to age. He's eighty-three now but could still pass for sixty. It was hard to make room for the cakes I brought because there was so much other food on the table. Uncle John always has meatballs, roast beef, potato salad, deviled eggs, lunch meat and people bring fudge and chocolate chip cookies.

The kitchen next to the table is small and narrow, yet somehow most of my ten older cousins and their significant others seem to fit in there. Though they may be older, they still demonstrate the same spirit they had when they were in their teens. Their chatter and laughter takes on a life of it's own. My cousin Michael is always wearing some significantly festive thing, either a really long scarf or a vest that lights up, and one year he even came in a full Santa suit. Those necklaces with Christmas lights on them are popular with the ladies. The crowd in the kitchen has often taken the party out on the back patio where they drank, smoked and shared stories and jokes. A quieter group of people sit in the chairs that circle the living room, eating and  having more serious conversations. On the coffee table in the living room there are chips, dip, nuts and candy.  

In 2001, we had a lively conversation outside when cousin Mary Jo told a story about opening the sunroof of her car in a mall parking lot and having ten inches of snow drop down on her lap. The jokes started when she said she had a "mall story" and some people thought she said "mole story" and were waiting to hear about a rodent. Someone asked, "What's the story about the mole in the hole?" After she clarified things, Mary Jo went on to talk about dealing with wet jeans from the sunroof avalanche. "I went into the mall and tried on a new pair of jeans because I couldn't keep wearing the ones that I had on." she said. "When I walked up to the clerk with the jeans on, he said, 'You can't put on the jeans until you've paid for them'." My brother Jos then said, "You should have done this." He then made a motion like he was pulling down a pair of pants. "Here", he said, and motioned like he was handing the clerk the money. He then mimed pulling up pants again, and everyone laughed. Cousin Bonnie walked out a little later and I said, "Mary Jo, tell Bonnie the story about the mole in the hole!"

The older folks were not exempt from having lively conversations, either. Mom started one in 1988 when she brought an unusual Christmas decoration to the party. I was in college that year and had previously decorated the house for Christmas, placing a candle on my father's nightstand. The candle was a little out of shape because part of it melted in the attic, but I still thought it was pretty enough to put out. I had no idea that Mom had taken the candle until she pulled it out of her purse at the party. "Now what does this look like?" Mom asked, surrounded by a crowd in the living room. Though no one actually stated it, there was an unspoken consensus that the candle looked like a male body part, one that may have even been "in action". I stood there at that moment like Edith Bunker from "All in the Family". Edith used to go through a series of hilarious facial expressions when something would initially go over her head and then start to sink in. She would say, "Oh..Ohh.." Then her eyes would widen like saucers and she would say, "Ohhhhhhh" when she completely got it. But that was only part of the story. Mom said that she was sharing an intimate moment with my father when she first saw the candle on the nightstand. "I bust out laughing, and Bob said, 'What's the matter?' and I said, 'Look at that candle!'  Uncle John later said, "Boy Darcy, you really gave us a lot of laughs". I gave them a lot of laughs, just by innocently putting a candle on a nightstand and thinking that sometimes a candle is just a candle. 

When most everyone has finished eating, Uncle John gets everyone's attention by passing out slices of ice cream cake from several ice cream cake rolls, until every single person has gotten a piece. Sometimes there is even enough for people to have seconds. Then its time for the highlight - the Christmas present raffle. Uncle John brings out large bags of gifts. Aunt Barbara helps Uncle John with preparing the tickets that Uncle John pulls from a saucepan to determine who gets each present. Each ticket has the name of someone attending the party. A young person or a child usually takes the gift to the person whose name was just announced. My cousin's daughter's daughter, who appears to be about five or six, handed them out this year. Each person ends up with two presents before we move onto the lottery tickets that cousin Kenny donates to the raffle. Last, Uncle John raffles off the monetary prizes, envelops containing $5, $10, $20, $50 and $100. 

It is not long after the raffle concludes that people start to leave. "Starting" to leave is the key phrase there, because before they walk out the door most people go through the whole house saying goodbye to everyone, which takes time. Kenny talked with Uncle John before leaving about being retired but working part-time on a farm. It was hard to picture Kenny on a farm. He was always a city-slicker, riding a motorcycle. I enjoyed hearing his upbeat attitude about his retirement. It gave me hope for the future. I exchanged contact info with his step-son, Spence, because he has expertise in website creation. The last person to walk in, I was also the last person to walk out, wondering why everyone left so early. At 9:30, the night was still so young. Going home with a lot of leftover food was consoling. 

This party is Uncle John's gift to the family.  It is a lot of work, but it is a labor of love. It is a lot of money but it is an investment in people. We go home with more than presents and food. We have strengthened connections, a renewed sense of our heritage, and a reminder of what's truly important in life. We are reminded that we are not alone in this world - that we are all in this together and that everyone has an important part to play. We will carry these things with us throughout the year in our hearts and souls. Uncle John has given us all of this plus fifty years of happy memories. I can't think of a better Christmas gift than that. Thank you, Uncle John!

                                      "We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for the sake of auld lang syne!"