Every family needs an Aunt Grace like mine

Invariably this time of year I wind up hearing Bing Crosby singing White Christmas. The song is virtually inescapable and many people of the older generation keep it close to their hearts around Christmas time. It is in fact a great song by a great singer. And yet for some it holds a much stronger place, more of a feeling that transcends the words or the music or the times.

That was how White Christmas was for my Aunt Grace. Of the three daughters born to my grandfather and grandmother, Albert and Mildred Poirot, she was the one who never married and wound up taking care of my grandmother until she passed away. One might think it a lonely life with no “family” and no kids, but not for my aunt Grace. For her there was nothing but family and nothing but kids.

Aunt Grace worked hard at the print shop for Grumman on Long Island. She lived her life giving everywhere she went. She was involved in the American Legion and used her time there to make things a little better for everyone she came into contact with. One might be led to believe that with all of her outside doings she would not have time for kids, but she did. She had time for her kids—her nieces and nephews—all nine of us.

Somehow, Christmas would never be the same without the Aunt Grace influence. Every year, she would come by and take us out Christmas shopping for everyone in the family. And then on Christmas morning, after we had dug through the stuff my parents had given us, Aunt Grace would pull up in her whatever year Blue Chevy Impala. She always bought Impalas and they were always that Carolina blue color. She liked them for the very same reason we kids liked them—they had big trunks.

Anyway, we all new that when the blue Chevy pulled into the driveway fun was just a few minutes away. She would pop in wearing some kind of Christmas-themed sweatshirt and call out for us kids to come help unload the car.

The trunk would be packed.

Aunt Grace was nothing if not a master packer. She could put more things in her trunk than ought rightly to fit. And we kids would come pulling in the boxes and bags and packages. A line of us each with a bag or two and heading from the driveway to the house. We must have looked like some kind of North Pole expedition.

Aunt Grace had her own way of protracting the joy of Christmas. Everything had to be done in a specific order and she would dole out the gifts making sure everybody’s hands were full of something that needed to be unwrapped. Everyone got something they wanted, and also underwear, socks, an outfit or dress or whatever was needed.

It was years before I realized that had it not been for Aunt Grace our Christmases would have been pretty spare. My parents both worked long before anybody thought to coin the term “latchkey kids.” It was years before I realized why the refrigerator was never full. Bringing up a family of four out on Long Island was a costly venture. I appreciate the effort that my parents made to keep us going.

But we always looked forward to this time of year. Aunt Grace’s time of year. All the other seasons have their place, but nothing topped Christmas for her. She instilled in my family, my siblings, a love for the season that will never dim. Christmas is a big holiday for us; we still try to get together—but as Robert Frost the poet said, “knowing how way leads onto way” it isn’t always possible to be together. We four are scattered along the East coast, and other members of the extended family are across the country and around the world. Thanks to the wonder of modern technology, we have our Christmas Skype sessions and the various email and Facebook contacts to keep in touch. It makes the world seem smaller.

When the day comes around we have a big dinner and enjoy each other’s company. At some point during the holiday, I know I will hear Bing crooning the song and at that moment I will know that Aunt Grace is with us again, making sure we kids have a joyous holiday.

To all of you readers, I wish a Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate. This is a time to reflect on the previous year, spend time with our families, and revel in the bliss of the Holiday Season. I wish you all the joy I feel upon hearing White Christmas.