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| A Christmas in Coaldale, Pennsylvania, circa 1975 or 1976. My grandparents were looking over a gift, the Tie Rack-O-Matic. I'm not sure whatever became of it, but I trust that my grandfather got a great deal of use out of it. |
Throughout my childhood, it was tradition to celebrate Christmas day by having dinner at my grandparents’ house — which later became my aunt’s house — in Coaldale. My family would wake bright and early, my brother and I would unwrap the gifts that Santa brought us overnight, and we would eventually make our way to Coaldale for a one o’clock dinner with the extended family who came from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Florida, and California.
Looking back on it, I can’t lie to you — Christmases were a good time of year. We got together, caught up on who was doing what, had a great meal, many laughs, a few drinks (after I was of legal age, of course), and enjoyed the company of each other.
As the years went by, things eventually changed. Family members passed, family members changed, family members drifted. From what I’ve been told, it happens to many people.
With that said, I still look back at the Christmases in the 1980s fondly, because — oddly enough — the 1980s are now my era of which I can reminisce and enjoy immensely.
