Karen’s Corner

By Karen Barkstrom

Getting ready for the holiday season, I recently started reminiscing about how we celebrated when I was a kid.

As I was growing up in a suburb of Chicago, we didn’t have any family members living close to us. My dad was an only child, and his parents had died before I was born. My mom’s parents, sister and brother, their spouses and offspring all lived in Lorain and Oberlin, Ohio.

Usually we’d go to visit “the relatives” in Ohio for Christmas — but we didn’t get to go every year. I’m guessing when the holiday fell in the middle of the week, Mom and Dad couldn’t get the time off, so we’d stay home for the holidays. And with no other family members around, it was really boring.

Oh, there’d still be Christmas presents and yummy food for dinner — always ham, ’cause my dad didn’t like turkey. But after opening presents and eating an early afternoon dinner, there was nothing to do. There were new toys to play with, but that got monotonous by myself. My brother, Keith, is four years older than me and certainly didn’t want anything to do with his “little sister” and her dumb toys.

All my friends in the neighborhood were busy with their own family dinners, so there were no other kids to play with, and there was nothing I cared about on TV. It was just plain boring.

But the times we were able to go to Ohio were wonderful.

Now that I say that, I’m thinking maybe they were wonderful for my mom, brother and me, but not so much for my dad.

The trip was about 350 miles each way, and back in the 1950s I swear it took about 10 hours to get there. Of course that was before freeways, expressways and toll roads. Back then it was driving through lots of small towns and farmland, all across Indiana and two-thirds of the way across Ohio. We’d leave after Mom and Dad got off work and drive through the night.

My brother and I would spend the time playing battleship (on graph paper, long before the actual game with a board and pegs came out) or ripping up long strips of newspaper and hanging them out the window to watch them flutter. And of course there was the alphabet game with Dad and Keith on one team and me and mom on the other …. the best sign to see was Quaker State when we got to yell out “Q,R,S,T,U!”

When it got late, Mom and I would stretch out in the backseat and my brother would lie down with his head in dad’s lap. How my dad stayed awake for all those hours while we snoozed away is mind-boggling.

We’d arrive at Grandma and Grandpa’s in the wee hours of the morning, then take a short nap before the festivities began. There would be a day or two of preparations, church on Christmas Eve and then we’d get to open one present. But first, we’d have to pose in front of the beautifully decorated tree (with lots of tinsel) in the matching flannel pajamas that mom bought every year for us.

Finally it was Christmas morning, and we’d gather around the tree — Grandma Ethel, Grandpa Harry, Aunt Bessie, Uncle Art and the four of us — each person opening one present at a time so everyone else could ooh and aah over it. Then the rest of the relatives would arrive, and we’d have dinner — turkey and ham, so everyone was happy.

There was always lots of card playing too — Liverpool rummy, Oh Hell and Pit. Of course we’d have to make sure the drapes were tightly closed, ’cause Grandma Ethel was a longtime member of the Baptist church in town, and playing cards was a huge no-no.

The day after Christmas, it was back on the road …. lots more driving for dad, but at least this time it was during daylight. We’d talk about the good time we had, snicker at how many times Uncle Art tried to cheat at Pit and keep our fingers crossed that we’d be able to go again next year.

Whatever you’re doing this holiday season, remember: Whether it’s carrying on traditions you’ve followed for years and years or you’re trying something new, you’re creating memories for yourself and anyone you are with. And decades from now, someone might be writing about it!

Karen Barkstrom, The Daily World’s editorial assistant, can be reached at 360-537-3925 or kbarkstrom@thedailyworld.com.