Holiday Eggnog...and Memories!

Every year when Winter arrives, a parade of memories makes it way down the 'mental street' where I live. The parade begins soon after the deparure of the 'Thanksgiving mental parade' passes by, along with turkey leftovers, dressing and gravy and cranberry sauce, pumpkins, scarecrows, bales of hay, and the cornucopia of offerings from the farmer's fields.

When I was young, holidays always had a lot to do with food (can you look at me and doubt it for a second?). My Mom, as well as my dad's Mom-- "Tennie", always baked a lot and made holidays a warm, magical time. Part of the good times was the annual trip from Dallas, Galveston, LaMarque or Houston, Texas -- cities where we lived at one time or another in the 40's, 50's and 60's -- to Sherman, Texas, where Tennie and her husband, my grandad Eugene, lived. In addition to the Christmas tree, slathered with ancient ornaments and 'tinsel icicles', and the old-timey Christmas lights, there was always an abundance of baked goodies of every kind. You know, the kind YOUR Mom and grandma made or still make.

There was always a lot of laughing and the telling of good stories as we all gathered in Tennie's warm kitchen (the warmest spot in her drafty little white wood-frame home). The grownups would stand around, dressed in bright holiday attire, and someone would bring out the eggnog. Ths eggnog was not purchased, but it was 'made' -- from 'scratch', if you will, and it was sinfully rich. From under her kitchen sink, Tennie would bring out the bottle of whisky that was kept there for the treatment of colds, and, uh... and the occasional unidentified upper respiratory ailment..... (conspicuous grin here). Although Tennie retrieved the bottle, the distribution of whisky from that big, old bottle, was always done by the Patriarch of the family, Eugene. Dispensing of liquor was always 'man's work'. While Tennie poured the adults their Christmas cups of eggnog, Eugene would then, with quite a bit of ceremony, put a little whisky in the eggnog. Eggnog was thought to taste better with a little whisky in it. In fact, it did...and still does!...especially if sipped from the little clear glass eggnog cups with daisy-chained glass beads for handles!

You must understand that NO one in our family drank in those years. For a family where everyone was a member of a Church of Christ, drinking was verboten. So, to spike eggnog with whisky sort of made me, as a ten-year old, watching this annual event from the sidelines, feel a little like I was watching a scene of impending doom! I thought: "Surely the bowels of the earth would open and we will disappear at any moment, along with a backdrop of roiling, blue-black clouds, fierce winds and monstrous flashing daggers of lightning, to await our turn at the Judgment Bar, to be banished forever into the fiery pit of Hell!" Wrong! No fires of hell. Only another cup of eggnog. From all the raucous laughter, I always felt that the grownups had more than a tablespoon of 'good cheer' in their cups of eggnog....(hic!).

Nevertheless, as I watched the merry scene, filled with laughter and the funny stories that my Dad and his dad, Eugene, always shared with the rest of us at holiday get-togethers, I was given my glass of eggnog and then, with the grudging approval of my Mom and Dad, Eugene put a tablespoon of whiskey into my glass and stirred it with a spoon. I couln't believe it! I WAS GOING TO BE INCLUDED IN THE EGGNOG EVENT WITH ADULTS!!! I felt incredibly mature at that moment -- it was as though I was being inducted into some secret society. A rite of passage. No longer did I feel like a skinny, buck-toothed kid with carefully parted Brylcreamed hair with an ocean-breaker wave in front. No more! Now I felt like a real man, as I stood there with the other adults, with a moustache of eggnog on my upper lip!

I tasted my eggnog and liked it! The whisky gave it a different, but better taste. I enjoyed the eggnog, but what I enjoyed more, was the feeling of being accepted and loved and a part of the family. There were always Christmas carols, and wonderful desserts, and meals, fit for kings. There was always happiness and fun and gratitude for God for what we had. There was always a lot of hugging and kissing, and an assurance that we were FAMILY! The raucous laughter from Mom and Dad and Tennie and Eugene, and my older sister now only echo in my mind, as they have all gone on before me, to be with our Lord. My baby brother is gone as well, and there's only my brother George, with whom to share those old memories.

I still love eggnog. It's not just a holiday treat for me. It causes 'mental parades' that I enjoy every year. Like a little kid, sitting expectantly on the curb in a little town -- waiting for the parade to come around the corner -- holding his little holiday flag on a tiny stick-- I look forward to the memories of the sights and sounds of my holiday mental parades, along with mental 'Kodak vignettes' of people I have known and loved, march by, full of holiday cheer (and eggnog!), laughing and hugging and singing and telling stories that still warm my heart and make my eyes mist-over.

Thank you, Erick, my favorite son-in-law, for leaving a bottle of 'special spiked eggnog', wrapped in holiday paper and a ribbon on the windowsill by my front door last night--a random act of kindness and love. I had a small cup of it late last night, and the taste of it took me back 55 years, to a very special time in my life, Christmas Eve, 1954.