Happy holiday (happy holiday), Happy holiday (happy holiday), While the merry bells keep ringing, Happy holiday to you,” sang Andy Williams over the speakers in my Tacoma. It was a bright and brisk winter morning in December of 2014. The girls and I were headed to school in Monroe. This was a 45-minute drive there, 45-minutes back, and it was miserable. I was a 36-years-old dad, with two daughters who were five and six. Getting them dressed and to school on time that far away meant an extremely early wake up for us all. By the time we got in the truck each morning, the girls were DONE! But on this particular morning, I did something my dad did with them in order to brighten their moods; I acted silly.
One of the cool things about Christmas around the Monroe area is, there is a radio station that plays Christmas music from the day after Thanksgiving until the day after Christmas and I took full advantage. Prior to being a girl dad, I was a Scrooge and despised Christmas music. Now, desperate to lower the misery level, I threw a Hail Mary pass…I started to sing along with Andy. Soon, I heard a giggle from the back seat, and then another. Before long, they were singing the back-up parts of that song like little professionals. This was the start of our Christmas songs in the truck tradition. The girls always say that it’s not Christmas until we sing Feliz Navi Dad, though.
When I say I was a Scrooge before 2008, I really was. It’s hard to explain why, other than I was just a young man who held tight to his walls of defense and being vulnerable was a huge no-no. My daughters changed that for me and now all I know is how to show my feelings. If you’ve kept up with this column, you’ve read about my mother. If you’re just tuning in, here’s the cliffs notes. She was the greatest Christian influence I’ve ever had in my life and kept the girls until they went to school. After my divorce, she coached me almost daily on the how-to’s of raising daughters. A lot of what you read here is a direct influence from her. One thing Mother insisted on was holiday traditions.
My mothers traditions were often craft or food related. Whether it was fudge, Texas Millionaires, Divinity, or sausage balls, mother enjoyed every minute of cooking in the name of Christmas tradition. After she passed, those cooking traditions unfortunately came to an end, and it was my fault. As a man, I never realized the importance of passing those things down to the girls. Four years went by and moved into our new home in November of 2020, our youngest daughter, P, hit me with a right hook that left my mouth agape. “Hey daddy, can we cook some of Marme’s old recipes tonight? I really miss doing that”. This child has never asked to cook anything since she last cooked with my mother, and I was floored. We snatched out my grandmother’s old cookbook that mother always used and searched until we found something we agreed on, peanut butter balls. While we were searching, Sister joined in and wanted in on the action, but she wanted her own thing and chose a chocolate cheesecake recipe. I’ll tell you now, my grandmothers KitchenAid mixer went into overdrive that night. Dortha Jo Odom was surely dancing on those Streets of Gold over the great-granddaughters she barely met, using her appliance to begin their own Christmas traditions with her once hard-hearted grandson. A true testament that time changes everything. After the cooking was done, we sat down for another tradition that my mother absolutely loved. I searched all over and finally found the greatest Christmas movie ever made, White Christmas. I can honestly say, even as a man, I thoroughly enjoy this movie. As we stretched out on the couch, I lit the fireplace. My girls and I, one on either side of me with chocolate milk watched, laughed, and talked about Marme liking this part or that part.
This will be our fourth year doing our Christmas traditional cooking and movie watching. We’ve added a few more movies to the list; A Christmas Story, Christmas Vacation, and Die Hard (it’s a Christmas movie, folks), but White Christmas will always be THE one. “A” still cooks her cheesecake and last year it didn’t even have a crack in the middle like usual, a clear sign she’s getting the hang of it. “P” sits ever so patiently and rolls her peanut butter balls while I work on the chocolate shell. I have to admit, the first year I tried to melt down some paraffin wax in the microwave like the directions said but, almost burned the house down. I have since moved on to dipping wax and it’s much easier. I’m learning just like they are I suppose.
Gustav Mahler is quoted, “Tradition is not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire”. My mother took part in family traditions as a child and passed that down to me and the girls. And while I almost fumbled the ball, it was two little girls who saw me struggling and knew exactly what to do. Preserve the fire and keep those traditions alive.
We wish you all a very merry Christmas Season and hope that you remember what the season is truly about!
Cheers, The Girl Dad Crew