By Maria Scaros
There is something in the air; whether the chill, the scent of pine, the lights, the carols, the dreidels, the snow. It can’t be helped. Tis’ the season. You can’t resist it. Something in us is turned on that brings us back in time.
I remember Pop going out on Christmas Eve and coming home with a tall scrawny tree and dragging it down the hallway of our railroad apartment. Needles everywhere. My mom, my sister and I cleared the corner in the living room to stand it up and decide which its best side was. Then out came the saw which cut branches from one side to jerry rig on the other to balance out the tree. My sister supervised the ornaments as she was the artist in the family. My brother haphazardly threw on the tinsel over my sister’s masterpiece to her horror. I put the snow (a white sheet) under the tree along with mini Santas and reindeer and finally the tiny nativity scene. It was the same each year for as long as I can remember.
Christmas was a wonderful time for Beverly. She left cookies and milk for Santa and waited up as long as she could to say thank you, but always missed him. “He always knew what to bring. It was always a white Christmas in Greenwich,” according Beverly. Greenwich was so beautiful with “snowmen and snow balls and all sorts of snowy things.”
And what about Hannukah? Adele told stories of real candle lighting in the lower east side apartment she recalls sharing with her parents and her two brothers. “Momma would light the candles we lit the night before because they went out. We needed the oil for cooking and not candles. We were poor and happy.” Adele supposed she was poor, and everyone lived the same. They had what everyone else had, which wasn’t much. The memories bring her back to the Bowery and all the warmth of her.
Nathan never lit Hannukah candles. “I remember hiding being Jewish in Germany, especially during Christmas. When we lived in England after Germany there was no hiding, but there was no Hannukah.” Nathan lights candles now at The Greens at Greenwich and tells the story of the Maccabeus and the miracle of lights. He’s a natural storyteller. He also enjoys leading Hannukah songs around the candles which evolve into Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. Hannukah and Christmas live in the same memory for Nathan and they blend together in harmony now.
Remembering the beauty, the fun, the family, the love, and the food…or not, is a part of the season for many. Somehow I wonder could it all have been whimsical and magical. I believe that we adjust our memories at times. Perhaps song and love and friends and family help in swaying our reminiscences. I like that my memory transformed what must’ve been a chaotic scene around a pathetic tree into a joyous Christmas eve. Beverly recalls every Christmas being white and every gift being perfect. Adele’s cramped Bowery apartment and the non miracle of the Hannukah of her childhood is now a quaint and warm memory. Nathan’s trauma in Germany and life in England, enduring anti-semitism, has empowered him to reframe his story.
Ah, the precarious nature of memories. They are so clear and true. They are born of all our senses and sensibilities. In time they are polished and become truly precious with time. They need to cook in the heart and the soul before they become golden. They will rise up without a conscious thought. They are reminiscences carried through time and held carefully so as to be spun golden for the retelling. Happy holidays to all, and be sure to share your golden spun memories.
Maria Scaros is the Executive Director of The Greens at Greenwich. As a Creative Arts Therapist, Maria loves to engage stories with the residents. Although they have memory impairment, their stories are rich and fantastical, based on a life well lived. Their stories matter and need to be told.
