There is perhaps no happier time in a child’s life than Christmas day. As an adult, whenever I think of Christmas, I am reminded of Christmas memories from long ago.Christmas memories include spending time with my parents, the smell of the Christmas tree, the lights, the food, and perhaps best of all, the gifts. My father was an expert in the most important facet to a young child; the gifts. Every year, my father would pick out the best gifts for me, and even though it was decades ago, I still remember many of the gifts as if they were yesterday.
As soon as I could walk, my father brought home a brand new toy ride-on car for me. He knew full well that this toy would be used all year long and would go with me everywhere I went. Why every year? Because after about a year of almost constant play, they would get completely destroyed. When I would go downstairs to see what was under the tree, a brand new shiny white toy car would be waiting for me, and would be decorated with a big red bow on the steering wheel; my father would never wrap it.
As the years went by, I was given more exciting gifts that fit my age level. What I can remember specifically, is my very first Lego set, 6382-1: Fire Station, the original Connect Four, and a set of inflatable dinosaurs which were massive, perhaps the size of a small bed. My father also bought me my first checker board, and first Monopoly game set. I learned from a very early age never to play against my father in Monopoly if I desired to win; my father being the mathematical and statistical genius, was unbeatable at Monopoly. I also vividly remember my first bicycle, which I had few opportunities to ride outside of our house in New York City, but my parents being the very flexible parents that they were, allowed me to ride my bicycle indoors, which was a lot of fun. It was the same bicycle that I took with me when we eventually moved upstate.
As I grew into adulthood, my father bought me every single camera and computer I ever had every Christmas, up until the year he passed away. Whenever I asked him why he was always so good to be and would always provide me with wonderful Christmas memories to hold, he would jokingly say that I was his favorite son; an understatement because I am an only child.
FW Anne Pratt Slatin & Dick Woodhouse
Beautiful! Love that wonderful memory.
I miss my father. You have no idea.