I wrote a short essay a few days ago for my family and especially for my children about me and about my family and about the nature of the past and truth and memory. Here's how I remember December 25, 1960, the year of my favorite Christmas:
"Three complete generations of my family were all together in Boswell, Oklahoma the third week of December, 1960 – my grandmother and grandfather; my mother, father, and sister; Aunt Lelda and Uncle Bill and my cousin Betsy; Uncle Gene and Aunt Joyce and my cousins Brady, Craig, and Jerry Dale; and my Aunt Shirley and Uncle Bill."
"That’s the Christmas that I remember best with my whole family in Boswell. I remember sitting in the living room around the Christmas tree with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins. I remember my grandfather, my father and my three uncles putting their hunting clothes on and going out with their shotguns to hunt and then returning to the house to drink hot coffee and play dominoes for hours. I remember opening the Christmas gifts on Christmas morning with my cousins. I remember my mother, my grandmother, and my aunts in the kitchen cooking up a big Christmas turkey with home-made stuffing and the whole family sitting at the table eating Christmas dinner."
Read the entire story here.