(41) At Grandma's and Raymond's for Christmas

(41) At Grandma's and Raymond's for Christmas and the new year

To be perfectly honest, for Christmas one year when I was five, we went to my paternal grandparents. I have to admit I had been there before and always enjoyed it.

Part of the excitement was the long drive. It was so far! The longer it took meant we had to get closer all the time. We left in the late afternoon. By the time we were fairly on the road, it was dark. Through the open headlights, we could see the wind blowing ghostly spirits of snow twirling and glittering around the car. We just watched and waited.

The best part was arriving. On a lonely curve of the road between towns, right to the sidewalk, there it stood, to the left, with its pretty green gallery, my grandparents' house. When we'd pull in, we'd see the small shed with a window very close behind.. I don't remember ever having gone in. We entered one by one through the side door with our bags in the big open kitchen.

My grandma would kiss us, and while undressing, I'd look at the sink counter with the pretty coloured cups hanging on hooks and the old stovepipe going through the ceiling. Grandpa would be rocking on his chair, smoking a cigarette, and half pushing out his dentures.

He was getting bald, and his fingers were extremely yellow and dark brown. He was legendary to us in how much he smoked. He was permanently imprinted in our minds as forever rocking, smoking, and either pushing out or sucking back in his dentures. Each time I looked his way and saw his dentures sticking out, I always conjured the image of a whale at the surface of the water gushing, even though he was a small and skinny man.

He rarely spoke. He seemed a decent. Grandma herself didn't smoke; she was a big woman, especially in comparison to Grandpa. She was fully alert. She loved to cook; her salads were so good! My big brother called them the " best salads in the worldw". There were different meat roasts and layered meat and potato pies.

Her table always included sweet desserts, plates of nut fudge, and a Christmas log ice cream cake. She loved to receive visits from all her family. While I would play with my cousins, the grownups would gather in the kitchen.

Grandma was notable for always talking at one point about doctors, illnesses, and pills. She showed us the liver stones she had removed through surgery. I was shocked. They were big with twinkles in them. It must have been painful! She kept them in a small jewellery box. Maybe one day she'll have them mounted as necklaces.

For the rest, for some childhood imaginative reason of mine, she reminded me a lot of a cartoon alligator on TV, especially the way he stands while he's surfing on a turtle's back. I never bothered telling anyone before.

There were at least three small child rocking chairs in the living room extention of the kitchen near the steps going to the small upstairs bedroom. There were a few steps, a sharp turn, and more steps. I always wanted to go up, but I wasn't allowed to. I could only climb the first steps until the sharp turn. It was great; it increased the mystery. I was told there was an Anubis head shaped night light up there.

The door near the table leads downstairs. When you open it, the steps are steep there too. Grandma keeps storage down there beside the furnace. Sometimes for too long, as another particular visit revealed.

I went down there only once with my sister. She told me our grandparents had a child who died, and they had it sentimentally buried beneath the furnace. She said sometimes when Grandpa can't sleep, he comes down here, sits in the corner, and smokes, thinking of his child. I was very surprised and found it mysterious. That's when you realize as a child that grown ups have more going on than suspected.

While the grown-ups talked in the kitchen with the drunk uncle with the half cut index finger, that's what I found interesting about him. His wife didn't seem very smart. we would play in the living room. Grandma had a deck of cards with bowling pins on them I liked a lot. They had a lamp with three different plastic shades. There was a painting on the wall of a man in a suit seated on a park bench with a green leather case.

This is the way each time we went. It was the only way I knew, and I liked it. As a child may slowly part his hands to reveal a huge, shining jewel, this part of my memory is open to me now, and I remember the difference that year with all the others.

For one thing, we never spent the night. We'd fall asleep on our way back in the car. When it's so dark you can't see anything through the window and no one talks, you get sleepy. That year we weren't. My father accepted his eldest brother's invitation to stay at his place for New Year.

I had never been there. We had two cousins from him. Raymond and his little sister. That uncle himself was a bit fat, balding. and ordinary. His wife wasn't fat, but she was a big woman with short brown hair.They lived further, a good way past my grandparents. It was a bigger house in a quiet spot between towns in the countryside. There were fields everywhere and lots of snow!

For sleeping arrangements, I shared my Raymond 's bed with him. He was fat and quite greedy. A small replica of his father. The bottom of his ear lobes were notably fat and somehow, somewhat dangling. He reminded me an odd buddha.

I was alone with him in the room. To make it less awkward, I slept facing his feet and he mine. He would make me change places often with him, though, because he let big gases go that I didn't hear but stank bad, not like rotten eggs, but they stank.

After his many gases and burps for fun, it got quiet. In the stillness, a distinct creak was heard from the ceiling. It was around midnight; we had heard the clock from downstairs. He told me someone was in the attic. He would be especially heard around midnight. His whole family knew. They all had heard walking and noises at one time or another. Once his father went up and lifted the trap, in the darkness, he saw something like bright reflective eyes.

Having survived the night, the next morning at breakfast, we had hot chocolate. The table was generously set. They had country appetites, and nothing smells better than a country morning breakfast.

My cousin was proud to show us a container of homemade "cretons" ( a French Canadian specialty) he made.

-"Help make!"

corrected his mother. He shyly admitted he stirred a lot. I never ate that stuff. It stinks and looks just like fat. With his butter knife, he scraped a large piece. He was bringing it to his plate to smear on his toast with mustard, but it fell right into his hot chocolate. It was funny. His mom offered to make him another one, but he didn't want it; he said it was o.k., and he didn't mind drinking it like that. I was surprised. I most certainly wouldn't have!

The bathroom door was a brown plastic accordion to pull shut from left to right. There was a large fissure at the bottom, and I remember hoping no one would see me. I was very disgusted to turn and unexpectedly find a great big stool in the toilet. I imagined right away it must be my cousins'. The water along the rim of this great big stool was becoming brownish. I was shocked someone could express something stout like that from their bum! Even if you're fat, it must hurt!

Naturally, we were told to all get dressed and go play outside. Raymond was was going to show us something somewhere out there. I was the youngest, and it took me a long time to put on the skidoo suit, felt boots, and the rest. My mom had to help me.

When I finally stepped outside, it was blindingly bright and freshly cold. As soon as we were out, the big ones left quickly. I couldn't follow, and I gave up. Despite my cries, they wouldn't slow down. Not knowing, I stepped off the path and sank nearly up to my neck in the ditch. I screamed for a long time until someone in the house heard me. My dad arrived and pulled me out. We walked back to the house.

Back to our own home after the holidays, there's always excitement on the school bus, everyone talking about what they did. I told a friend in my class; she sat in front of me. When I got to the part with the great big stool in the toilet, she acted as if she felt sick and lay down on her back on the seat and waved her hands over her face. It made me laugh. I didn't expect that, and I was happy she understood!