Most of us have some special memories of Christmas from when we were young kids. I have many fond memories of Christmas but one particular Christmas sticks out in my memory.I was seven years old and had (kinda) learned how to ride a bicycle the previous summer. I had a little bike with training wheels. When the training wheels came off, it wasn't much of a bike. So I had asked for a "big bike" for Christmas.
Our Christmas tradition was for Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) to come to our house to deliver presents on Christmas Eve. I remember that Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) had a big bag that he would place under the Christmas tree. Then he would sit down and my sisters and I would take turns sitting on his lap (or sometimes we would all three pile on!).
That Christmas of 1967, I noticed for the first time that Santa Claus's (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) hands looked just like my Grandpa's hands. I pointed that out to everyone when I got to sit on his lap. No one acknowledged that I had even spoken. In later years, both my Grandma Theresa and my mother would love to tell that story. Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) had forgotten his gloves so I got a good look at his hands.
It was painfully obvious to me that there was no bike in the bag that Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) had placed under the tree that Christmas Eve. After each of us had had our turn on Santa's lap, he got up to go, informing us of the busy night he still had ahead of him.
Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) bid each of us farewell - hugs and kisses for him from everyone. He then left out the front door of our home - the same door he came in.
Though I did not know it at the time, everyone's eyes fell on me to see if there was any disappointment on my face as I realized that there was no bike in the bag. I've been told (many, many, many times) that I was just about in tears.
Just then, the doorbell rang (again)! Why it was Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) and he had forgotten one present. He asked me to come outside and help him. I went out into the cold winter night, where I found a new bike sitting in the reflection of the headlights of a vehicle.
That was the last time I ever saw Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank). My Grandpa Frank died in April, just four months later and we never saw Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) again.
At the time, I thought it was a great Christmas because I got the bike I wanted. I remember so many of the details of that Christmas because of the gift. I don't recall if that bike came with snow tires but I'm certain it didn't matter. I'm sure I put some miles on it that winter.
That bicycle was my first bit of independence. I rode it everywhere - to school, to the swimming pool, to baseball, to my friends' homes, downtown, etc. My world grew that Christmas.
Now, as I look back, it was a special Christmas because it was the last one with Grandpa Frank. Santa Claus (who looked suspiciously like my Grandpa Frank) never came back to our house on Christmas eve. How could he? He had some big shoes to fill!
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