You might find this hard to believe but a long time ago, your mommy was my wee babe and this is the story of her first Christmas.
Jennifer’s birthday is December 21 which was the first day of winter. On Christmas Eve, I received a call from Grandad (who was just dad back in those days) Grandad had taken his motorcycle to work that cold day to save money on gasoline and because the weatherman predicted a dusting of snow. The dusting turned into several inches of snow and the bike stalled out on the on ramp from the Roosevelt Bvd to the Schuylkill Expressway.
These were the days before cellphones and Grandad had to walk over a mile to City Line Avenue to use a pay phone to call. In the meantime, no one was available to rescue Grandad so I bundled Jessica and Jennifer and headed through Valley Forge Park to the Schuylkill Expressway and took the City Line exit and, by some miracle, found Grandad in the lobby with the pay phone.
We arrived at the on ramp and Grandad’s bike was obscured by several inches of fresh snow.
I sat in the car with the girls while Grandad attempted to load his bike into the trunk of our old LTD but try as he might, he could not manage to get the bike loaded and not one passer-by stopped to help so I got out of the car and helped him get his bike loaded and off we went in the enchanted night back home to wait for Santa to arrive but Santa paid a visit to Great-grandad’s (he was just plain old Grandad in those days) because the heater broke in the apartment complex and it was bitterly cold outside.
But Grandad’s house was warm and the cookie tins were full and it felt like Christmas at last and now Jennifer is your mommy and has her own style of adventure that does not involve lifting heavy motorcycles in the snow on Christmas eve three days after giving birth.