Daddy loved Christmas - as an adult. As a child his Christmases were ordeals to be endured. You see, Daddy was born in 1922 - to a woman without a husband. He suffered mentally and physically for being a "bastard" until he grew large enough to defend himself against his uncles and any others who sought to hurt him. As a child, Daddy hated Christmas.
Things changed magically and wonderfully for him when his children reached the ages when they understood Christmas meant lights, and presents and food and fun and magic. I think Daddy got to live the youthful joy of Christmas as a full-grown man. He shared Christmas with his kids almost like he was a kid himself. We loved it. His laughter still echoes in my head. I'm glad it's there. I often draw upon it, like listening to a favorite song.
Like the rest of us, Daddy would visit The Tree unabashedly to see what presents might be there for him. And like the rest of us, he would try to guess the contents through weight, sound and an idea of the person who gave it. What was so frustrating was that he was so often right. We couldn't figure out how he did it. He would laugh like Jolly Old St. Nicholaus himself and declare he had the power to "see through the paper". Of course, we knew that wasn't true. Well, we kind of knew that. Okay. We thought it could be true.
He was defeated one year by my mother and Gayanne. It was the funniest thing I remember about him and his Christmas presents.
Daddy was a truck driver. For years upon years he drove a straight truck in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. (A 'straight truck' is a single unit vehicle, as opposed to a tractor-trailer.) It was difficult work because, as the driver, he was required to help load and unload the truck at each stop. No forklifts. This often meant backbreaking work. Literally backbreaking. Daddy suffered from severe back pain most of his life.
Every year Daddy would apply to become a 'road driver'. These were drivers who drove out of Minneapolis to other cities in the five-state area. (Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin and the two Dakotas.) Road drivers didn't always have to help load and unload. (He ended his career driving a dedicated run to Chicago and back in which he no longer had to do any manual work.) Well, one year he was told he had made it! He would start driving over the road when business picked up again after the Christmas lay-off. (Every year it seemed my dad would be out of work from around Christmas until late winter.) He was happy. It was something to look forward to.
It was also something for which he needed a suitcase. Although driving over the road, he would still drive a day cab, not a sleeper. (Day cabs have no sleeping berth.) Although we couldn't afford it, Mother went to a luggage store and bought Daddy a fantastic soft-sided leather suitcase. It had a big interior with pockets all over the place to hold odds and ends. Daddy was going to love it! The problem was, Mother did not want him guessing the gift before he opened it. So she concocted this plan and had Gayanne implement it. The plan was this:
Gayanne had gift for sewing. She was better at it than anyone we knew - including Grandma. In fact, Gayanne designed and made the attendants' dresses at my wedding. I always felt Gayanne missed her calling in life. She could have been a fashion designer, or even been another Edith Head. It didn't happen.
Anyway. What Mother had Gayanne do was to make the new leather case stuffing for a life-sized Santa Claus. They weren't able to make him stand, but that was all right. They sat him down beside The Tree where he watched over the growing pile of presents. On his chest was a large tag which read: To Lloyd From Helen.
Everyone hung around the tree waiting for Daddy to come home. When he did we could hardly sit still until he came into the living room. When he came in he made the survey, but he didn't pay attention to Old Santa. He was grown up, so he tried to hide his disappointment in not finding anything new for him, but we could see it. I don't know who it was who burst first. It may have been me. Perhaps Helvie. But Daddy was directed to the Santa Claus. When he saw Santa was not just a decoration his eyes lit up and we could see his thoughts working feverishly to guess what was in there.
He got teased a lot in the final days before Christmas. Helvie and I were not allowed to tease. (We had big mouths.) When Christmas Day finally arrived, Santa was the final present to be opened. Daddy still had no idea. For the first time I could remember, Daddy didn't know! Christmas was a time of magic. I knew it! When he opened it, he was happy. You could always tell with Daddy. He kept that leather case to the day he died. I am glad he had some merry Christmases before he left. I am glad I was part of some of them.
You all have a Merry Christmas, too.
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