Frost Memory

At Christmas, we often went to my Mom’s parents house in Michigan. My younger sister and I would share the room my Mom and her sister grew up in. Two twin beds with quilts. Two retro lamps. Two tiny 60s metallic Christmas trees.

The room was chilly is winter. When we got older, we had space heaters, but when we were kids everything felt cold, especially our noses. We would snuggle under the covers in our matching red flannel pajamas that we opened Christmas Eve.

But, then we would remember it’s Christmas. We jumped out of bed saying, “Brrr.”

Before I made it downstairs, something would catch my eye. The old window that was letting all the cold in, even though it was closed, would have frost on the inside corners. I would watch the sparkles and the world within the miniature snowflake. So delightful and beautiful. I could feel the cold air as I got closer to the window.

When I could no longer stop myself, I would place the pad of my pointer finger over the frost and watch as it melted. The glistening frost turning to tears down the window with the touch of my finger.

I would press the frost over and over, until it all melted away. I felt warmer having used my heat to melt the frost.

Once the frost was completely melted, I could go downstairs to the warm living room to see the stockings on the couch and smell the French toast, bacon and pecan rolls. A private, cherished moment turning to laughter and communal gathering.

Do you have any memories of moments of holidays?