Just received my Griswold Family Station Wagon mini for my Nora Fleming napkin holder and it made me think back to my Dad's last Christmas. We had no idea it was going to be his last Christmas, he'd had a bad fall earlier in the year and it was touch and go for a while but he rallied. We traveled from Rhode Island to Oregon for Christmas at my sister's (Dad was living with them) and I expected him to be frail but he was in great shape and up for a moderate form of whatever festivities we had planned. He had COPD so mobility was limited but we made it work.
We started off with a slideshow. I brought four wheels of family slides - there were a few from my parents' early years in Paris (they met and got married there - Dad was stationed there with the U. S. Army and Mum worked for the British civil service), all the way through our years of traveling through Europe (Dad had some great duty assignments) all the way up through probably the 70s. I didn't think Dad would be onboard, he was never one for pictures of the past, said they made him sad, but he thoroughly enjoyed the show.
On the weekend, we headed out to look for the Griswold Family Christmas Tree - my BIL's last name starts with G so we just changed it to Griswold. He rented a big pickup with four doors so we all fit comfortably and Dad was settled with blankets and a thermos of hot chocolate to wait while we trekked through the wilderness to find the perfect tree. And trekked we did, my BIL rejected one after another until he found the perfect tree. He chopped it down and we dragged it back to the truck. I tripped over a tree root, fell down and couldn't get up because I was laughing so hard and Vic hyperventilated from the altitude! Oh my goodness, what an adventure.
When we got back to the house, the boys (then 4 and 5) decorated the tree as far up as they could reach and Sophia finished off the top. I had to laugh at my sister's ornaments (three small tubs) but we managed to space them out over the tree. We added some presents underneath and it looked lovely until the boys were fiddling around under the tree checking out the packages and managed to bring the whole tree down on top of themselves. No injuries other than two subdued boys and a couple of broken ornaments! How I wish I had video of that moment.
Finally, on Christmas Eve, my BIL gathered everyone around to hear "The Polar Express" and there's a line at the end of the story "I shook the bell". I had a small bell concealed in my hand and tinkled it at just that moment. My nephews' heads snapped around and their eyes grew wide, another great moment. They soon had me rustled though and we all had a good laugh.
Six weeks later, Dad was gone but what memories of his last Christmas.