Awwww…the nostalgia of Christmas memories.

When I reflect on the Christmases from my childhood, I can see my family decorating the tree. It was always an exciting time. Some years the tree was full of branches and needles. Other years the tree was rather scrawny. One year our adventurous cat climbed up the tree, which then came down, with all the ornaments falling to the floor, and the cat bolting out of the room.

I remember making and decorating sugar cookies with my mom and sister. Mmmmm…the warm smell of cookies in the oven. It was always a two-day event. Before we were done my sister and I got to decorate our very own cut-out angel cookie, which was bigger than the other cookies. I always put sugar sprinkles on her dress. I would eat it slowly, never all at one time.

The candle light and holiday lights bring a glow and ambiance to the holidays. I love how they brighten the long hours of darkness. The twinkling lights on the tree, or the candles at church – they have always made me feel safe and at home.

One of the most special parts of Christmas for me was being with my dad as he preached Christmas Eve and Christmas Day services at the Lutheran churches where he served. I can still hear his voice reading from the Book of Luke. I can hear the congregations singing Silent Night on Christmas Eve and Joy to the World on Christmas Day. A beautiful sense of community gathered in faith.

After Christmas service we would be off to grandma and grandpa’s for Christmas dinner and fun with extended family for a few days. The huge dinner table would be set and ready when we arrived. On the table would be bread, vegetables, cranberries, mashed potatoes, white gravy, Swedish meatballs, melted butter, and lutefisk. This Swedish family never had a Christmas dinner without lutefisk as long as my grandma was alive. Of course, one of the desserts was always spritz cookies waiting on the counter.

I remember there was always a lecture of sorts about how it would be disrespectful for someone with such deep Swedish roots not to eat lutefisk. So, despite the lump in my throat and the turning of my stomach, I put some of the slimy fish on my plate. I buried it in my potatoes, added melted butter, and let it slide down.

Done for the year, or so I would think. Some more of that stinky fish would always appear on my plate! Who would do that? Innocent faces of my aunts, uncles, and cousins surrounded me. I did not want to ruin the meatballs. Pass me more potatoes, please.

I hope the sacrifices I made proved my Swedish-ness. I know it was worth it because it made my grandparents smile and showed that I appreciated our identity.

As I now celebrate Christmas with my own children we follow some of the same traditions from my childhood. We bake cookies, we decorate a tree, we love the holiday lights, and we go to a Christmas Eve service. My children do not know the very interesting taste of lutefisk; that will live on only in my memory. My dad is retired now, and I miss hearing him preach during Christmas services.

I would like to make some more new memories during the holidays. As my kids get older I have been thinking of things I have wanted to do but haven’t. I have always wanted to go on a horse-drawn sleigh ride. I want the horses to have sleigh bells (bells make me think of Christmas). I want to hear the runners slide and crush on the snow, and I want to be warm under a thick blanket. I think that would be a lovely holiday tradition to start.

Weaving through all my past and present thoughts of Christmas is the music. From the hymns at church to the jazz versions: Bing Crosby, Pentatonix, and everything in between. I love holiday music. Sometimes it makes me cry, sometimes it makes me smile. No matter the emotion, it brings the Christmas spirit into my heart and mind.

The Christmas spirit is a message of love. It is a message of light in a world that feels dark at times. I hope your Christmas memories are ones full of love and gratitude. I hope you are making new Christmas memories that bring light, hope, and joy to you and those around you.