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The Danish butter cookies were a thing for us too, as well as ceramic churches with what appear to be stained glass windows and the fake snow on the top.
My favorite Christmas memory from when I was very young, maybe a toddler or some such age, is the lights that were on the Christmas trees. Modern ones are pretty but the ones back then were bigger and were warm.
I think people should feel they can opt out of all of Christmas, some of Christmas, or any parts they choose to....without experiencing negative reactions from people they know and without feeling guilt. It should be perfectly permissible societally not to participate.
I agree and have done so. As I posted in another thread, DH & I are going cold-turkey this year on giving/receiving gifts. We've ramped down on decorations and family events during the past few years. (We do enjoy holiday events like theater, concerts, house tours, parades, etc.).
My take is people put the pressure upon themselves, I don't blame society or others. Workplace celebrations aren't easy to avoid but most of us here are retirees so that's not a problem. Family can't force a person to feel guilty; if there's guilt, it comes from inside.
DH and I have extended family on both sides and I think they're somewhat puzzled at our gradual Xmas and Thanksgiving slowdowns. They mention it to us and ask about it at times but I don't interpret that as pressure, they just want to make sure they've continued to make us feel included. We reassure them that we're just ready for some changes in our life.
Kids expectations and all, all driven by the media. Unfortunate. For retirees, we can more easily look the other way and observe as we see fit.
A Facebook friend recently posted a photo of her 4 grandchildren seated around her table with piles of catalogs and circulars in front of them. The children were going through them, circling and initialing things they wanted. My friend referred to it as a "family tradition", it was obvious that she had set up the event.
I know it's her call to observe the holidays as she sees fit. I'm struggling hard not to judge her. I know some would see it as a very practical way to buy the grands presents they actually want. But wouldn't one catalog or circular have accomplished that?
I've always dreaded Christmas. Every year it's when our family gets together, and my dad brings up horrible memories for no reason, puts me on the spot and makes me uncomfortable and questions me about things in front of the family or make me look stupid. There's drama almost every holiday, and conversations are full of ***** talking. I swear when I move out on my own I'm never going to family gatherings again.
I loved Christmas as a child. it was even better when I had kids and was able to both believe in Santa and also BE Santa. We did the cookies, so many cookies, listened to the viena boys choir sing Christmas carols. During the Christmas season, we all had our Santa mugs.
Putting up the tree was wonderful/terrible for me. We didn't buy our tree from a tree farm, so it seemed to take forever to find the perfect placement without too many bald spots showing. And then there was the period of time to find the one bulb that was out that prevented any in the string to light up.
But, Finally the lights would be on and we would have fun, each placing our ornaments on the tree. Until, oh no, time to put on the icicles.
They were made out of aluminum back then. Every strand had to be put up perfectly spaced and exact. we rarely opened new containers, because my mother would carefully remove them and store them for the next year.
My favorite decoration was 3 porcelain angesl, one of which had a crooked halo and was hiding a slingshot behind her back. My dad said they found them in a store and they reminded him of me and that is why they purchased them. When my dad died, I asked for those angels and nothing else. they are obviously Christmas decorations, but they are on display in my living room year round.
I would love sitting next to the Christmas tree with REAL hot cocoa that my mother had made while I studied the Sears wish book. For hours and hours and hours.
I had terrible gastric problems as a child. The cocoa, the eggnog, the cookies, the pastries, they all made me sick for hours. I never told my family, though, because I knew that they would not believe that the joy I received from these treats was worth the pain.
Christmas day itself was like magic. No one ever hit me or was mean to me on Christmas. My brother never threatened to "Paula Sue Steinbach" me on Christmas. Ever. I was able to eat as much as I wanted, including desserts. My mother actually bought me some of the gifts I had asked her for.
I was SO excited for my family to open the gifts from me. I thought that they were such wonderful gifts that I had picked out or made, though, in retrospect, I had to be the most clueless gift giver EVER.
I remember I loved my gifts, but I always dreaded with excitement, opening "the Big Present." Everyone would watch when someone opened their big present and I dreaded that. The gift was ALWAYS something I loved, but I was unsure how to express that. I would practice opening my big present for days beforehand, but I never could find a script I was comfortable with [ birthdays were really hard. I also loved them except for the opening of gifts, and the birthday song. both filled me with terror.]
While I was still stuffed so much from the food that I was in pain, I would then start eating pies, more cookies, and the turkey, stuffing, sweet potato with a huge dollop of mayonnaise sandwiches [with my eggnog filled santa mug]
I would place all of my gifts around me on my bed. I would tell myself that since they gave me these wonderful things that they MUST love me. It was the second happiest day of the year.
They were made out of aluminum back then. Every strand had to be put up perfectly spaced and exact. we rarely opened new containers, because my mother would carefully remove them and store them for the next year...
My mother used to do that for many years. My early childhood was the WW II years, and I have assumed that perhaps saving the metal icicles was a necessity if you wanted any for the next year. It was not until the Fifties that she dropped the habit.
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