Happily Ever After To Grandmother’s House We Go

by Valerie Nusbaum No matter which occasions you celebrate, the holidays are filled with all kinds of traditions, rituals, and gatherings. For my family, one that stands out is the annual Christmas Eve party at Grandma’s house. My grandmother was several inches shy of five-feet tall, and she lived in a tiny house near Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. My brother and I could literally sing “Over the River and Through the Woods” whenever we went there. Attendance at Grandma’s house on Christmas Eve was mandatory.  Her three grown children, their spouses, and all eight of us cousins crowded into what Gran called her “peanut shell.” Grandma’s brothers and sister, and their families, were always included, as were her neighbors. It was hot as blazes in there, and by the end of the evening, we had all shed our church clothes and were stepping outside on Grandma’s front porch to cool off. The noise and laughter spilled out into the yard. It didn’t hurt that Grandma always served two bowls of punch—one spiked and one “safe.” We found out years later that she spiked both bowls, but no one ever got mad at her. That explains why the kids were never given punch from the bowls, though.  She kept a pitcher in the kitchen for us. Her little house was decorated from top to bottom with all manner of shiny, glittery things. If it sparkled or lit up, chances are it was hanging from a doorway or the ceiling. As I said, Gran was short and she never hit her head on anything. Such was not the case for me and my brother, but we were the tall ones in the family. Anyone was welcome at Gran’s, and over the years, there were lots of friends, significant others, and occasional strangers, who walked through that front door. Eventually, all eight of us kids got married, some more than once, and the great-grandchildren started arriving. One year, my family hosted two missionaries for Christmas. Those boys were a long way from their homes, and Mom invited them to stay with us. We took them to Gran’s, and then to midnight church. When those boys started giggling and singing loudly, well, that’s when we caught on about Gran’s punch. Yes, it was a horrible thing to do, but for once, I was completely innocent. Dad gave Gran a stern talking-to and that was that. Another year, Uncle Lewis had a little too much of the festivities. He grinned glassily at everyone and sat back to light his cigar. Everything was fine until my mom realized that he had lit his finger instead, and she yelled for him to put out the fire. Uncle Lewis stuck his finger in the bowl of egg nog. Every year after that, one of us kids would dig through the box of Halloween fake body parts and throw a plastic finger in the egg nog. Uncle Lewis was not amused. Our grandmother loved her Christmas trees, and she frequently changed her mind about what type of tree was best. Sometimes she had a real tree, and sometimes it was artificial. She had one of those silver trees with a color wheel, too. Another year, she sent my dad out to cut a branch for her, which she covered with cotton and hung ornaments from. Knowing that she treasured her collection of ornaments, I decided to make a set for her. I carefully painted and lettered the names of all the family members onto glass balls and added a lot of glitter.  Gran loved them, and as the family continued to grow, she’d remind me to make new ornaments. As I said, there were a couple of divorces in the family. Now, when divorce happened, if Gran liked the “ex” then that person’s ornament got hung from the ceiling instead of on the tree with the family. If Gran didn’t like the “ex,” the ornament was hung from a tree in the backyard. To my knowledge, only one ornament was ever hung in the yard, and I won’t name names. Gran made her famous sausage balls with a spicy cheese dipping sauce every year. There was always country ham, too. I was usually in charge of cookies, because she said I decorated them better than she did.  I knew she didn’t really like baking cookies. Pies were her specialty, and there were always a lemon meringue and a coconut cream. Usually in November, after she got her retirement check, Gran would give Mom some money to shop and buy gifts for us. Gran liked to wrap them herself and put them under her tree to hand out.  We pretended to be surprised every Christmas. We’d get an extra gift, too—one that Grandma had chosen.  She bought extra gifts for guests and wrapped and put those under the tree, too. She didn’t have a lot of money, but she so enjoyed doing this. My Grandmother passed away in 1994. Aunt Shirley moved into the house, and to this day, those of us who can make it still travel to the peanut shell in West Virginia on Christmas Eve. It seems like the right thing to do. Happy Holidays to all of you!  Randy and I hope none of you find coal in your stockings.