(Written in response to the GeneaBloggers Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories Dec. 10 prompt: Christmas gifts.)
I had two aunts who were the alpha and the omega of Christmas gift giving.
Aunt Joanie gave us fabulous toys. Aunt Cath gave us clothes – the gift most likely to be consigned by kids to Siberia (i.e., the back of the tree, alongside the bad ties for Dad and the pine-scented bath oil for Mom).
I feel badly, in retrospect, for our bored reactions to the clothes from Aunt Catherine. They were good quality, beautiful and chosen with care. Long after the tinsel was swept away and the tree taken down, we were glad to wear them. Not that we admitted it.
Aunt Joanie’s gifts had the unfair advantage of being more kid-friendly. And beyond that, they were just … well, fabulous.
The Shiba Productions fairy tale books Aunt Joanie gave us one year stayed in my mind so strongly that I have paid through the nose for a couple of them on eBay to share with my own daughters. They were produced by a Japanese stop-motion animator, who created magical puppets and sets to illustrate them. As children, we really felt we were disappearing into a fairy tale just by looking at the pictures.
And I still remember the Honey Moon doll. Can you blame me? (Really, click the link and take a look. She has to be seen to be believed.)
Amazingly, this doll is not a visitor from Mars; she is a tie-in to the Dick Tracy comic strip. Honey Moon was the child of Miss Moon Maid and Junior Tracy, the adopted son of Dick Tracy and Tess Trueheart. A genealogy angle! Tracy family researchers, take note.
Honey Moon was the perfect example of an Aunt Joanie gift: eye-popping, cool and definitely not something your parents would buy you. (My mother’s reaction when I unwrapped Honey Moon was something along the lines of “Whuh..?”)
Aunt Joanie’s and Aunt Catherine’s gifts were also wrapped as beautifully as anything I’ve ever seen. Even as kids, we felt badly about unwrapping them. And the ribbons were always secured with unique little trinkets that my mother could never bear to throw away. So we’d hang them on the tree. They are still part of the family ornament collection, forty-odd years later.
In their memories, I’m raising a glass of Christmas cheer to all the aunts who spoil their nieces and nephews rotten. What would we do without you?