Winner: Best Christmas Gift, EVER

...and the prize goes to...

...my son.

He didn't buy the perfect gift for me, although what he did buy for me was wonderful.  He bought and made a gift for his grandma that tugged at my heart strings.

His gift was this, a wooden advent calendar.  He had written a note to go along with his gift that said,

Grandma, 

Inside are moments and memories that make me think of you.    I love you very much, and merry Christmas. 

Stephen                                                                                                 

In the moment, I thought what an amazing gift.  I pulled out my phone and I recorded the event.  I know it's only been a few days since Christmas, but I went back, and watch again as my former mother-in-law opened her gift.  Reflecting now, the gift itself was indeed wonderful, but the greatest part of the gift was actually reliving these little moments and memories with her right then and there. Laughter and tears of joy filled the room.  One memory would spark another, or go off on a tangent all it's own. My son, who is 26 years old, recalled memories from his youth.  I am grateful that I was able to raise my children so near at least one set of their grandparents.  These memories won't mean anything to others, but to us, to our family, they are golden moments. My son recalled IU Basketball games, Seafood, German wines - particularly Gewürztraminer and Riesling, the basket of toys in his grandparents' shed and playing in the driveway, boogie boards, fiber optics, climbing the big pine tree in the backyard, hiking in the woods behind the house, Joe Joe the giant, Easter Egg hunts with foreign students, the rough surface of Aunt Skip's pool, 4th of July picnics with fireworks and cannons, hotdogs, hanging the star in the tree out front at Christmas, the song (by Louis Jordan) "Ain't Nobody Here but Us Chickens," Jr. Kroll books (Betty Paraskevas), New Years Eve at the Memorial Union, Grandma's spooky decorations at Halloween, the stationary bike and ski thing in the backroom, sleepovers, and Fondue.

My personal favorite memory recalled was when my imaginative, four-year-old son shared who his father really was to his grandfather. At the breakfast table after one sleepover, my FIL said something about Chris and my son said, "Chris isn't my father." Puzzled, my FIL asked who was my son's father, his response was a very straight faced and serious "Darth Vader is my father." I loved when Luke Skywalker lived in my household.

Expanded stories and Tangents

A funny we used to share between households was when walking into the other's house you would shout, "Is anyone here?" Only to get the response, "Ain't Nobody Here but Us Chickens." When my MIL read that memory she giggled and said, "I'll always want you to sing that.  I think I once bought your grandpa a pop gun, but I can't recall if I really did or am just imagining that." I told her I was sure she did, but as is her generous spirit, she likely gave it away to some kid who came to visit and liked it.  For fun, go listen to the great Louis Jordan here:  (1947) Ain't Nobody Here But Us Chickens

Jr. Kroll books reminded my MIL, and myself, about a long ago local, family owned book shop called Morgansterns. One day when we walked into the shop, there was a book written by Betty Paraskevas and illustrated by her son Michael, sitting prominently in the children's section.  The book was simply called, Jr. Kroll.  It is a book filled with poems about the slightly naughty, six year old named Jr.  Morgansterns even had a plush Jr. sitting next to the book.  My MIL had to own him, and Jr. sat for years on her book shelf.  I own several different Jr. Kroll books myself, and that plush boy now sits in my classroom, with his slightly askew, naughty smile looking down on my students.

IU Basketball games lead to a conversation involving my MIL recently going to see The Book of Mormon in Indianapolis.  I am aware that there is not a clear connection between these two.  This was a tangent! My MIL talked about how she hated the production.  "They said the F word too much, and they talked about having...well, I won't tell you.  It would spoil Christmas."  Giggles can be heard from the rest of us at this point on my recording.

Joe Joe, the Giant was a made up name of some being that may or may not live in the woods behind the houses.  Personally, I've never had a problem with him.  Joe Snyder, former Sociology professor, who lived through the woods really did exist. "I wonder what ever happened to Joe...I guess he died." More giggles.

Seafood - Especially Crab...lead to "Open that box that Kandace gave me it's perfect for this!"
It was, and it contained crab earrings.

German wines - "Must be my German background," again more giggles. (She's Canadian French/Scottish...married name is Kroll.)  Tangent: "When I was little, my grandma's sister married a Harbach or Harbaugh, but it was pronounced Eyeball.  My sisters and I would laugh saying Grandma's sister married an eyeball." We could all see those three sisters giddy with laughter and tears in their eyes! I am grateful my children witnessed those three sisters as they aged together.  Truly great, great aunts.

Hotdogs.
"Where is the, At Ogle Lake and for Kate's/grandma's birthday?" my daughter and I asked.
Heavens knows we ate our fair share cooked over a grill in Brown County State Park too many times to count.  I love when my MIL asks me to go to a ball game with her even today.  I take advantage of the time and buy her a hotdog, because I know she LOVES them.

Easter Egg Hunts with Foreign Students.  My MIL has hosted international students at the university through Bloomington World Wide Friendship since it's inception over 50 years ago.  That means students do not stay with her, but they are included in any family thing or American tradition she deems interesting.  Easter Egg hunts have always been her favorite thing to deem interesting and torture, I mean share with the visitors.  Sometimes all the real hard-boiled eggs are found, sometimes not.

New Years Eve at the (Memorial) Union - is really at the University Club in the Union.  My MIL said after she read this, "I wish people would stop coming to it (the party)!  I keep needing to have a party because people keep showing up!  They even call it Kate Kroll's New Year Eve Party." Her grandson said she should keep it up then for sure, and edge out Dick Clark.

The basket of toys and playing in the driveway
My daughter piped up for this one.  She recalled her grandfather walking around with them as they used the little green tractor and the trailer.  Grandpa would use a stick to hold the trailer in the place.  If he didn't, the trailer would unhitch spilling it's contents, my daughter, on the driveway.  "What a good grandpa he was!"

The rough surface of Aunt Skip's pool brought up singing Gloria In Excelsis Deo in church the night before.  Aunt Skip could not hold a tune.  She knew it, and she liked to sing loud any way.  She particularly like singing,"Glor-or-or-or-or-or-ria." She would give us all ornery looks in church too as she sang.  Sample Gloria...if you need reminding. We were on a wonderful tangent now. This brought up how once, all three sisters were singing camp songs or something like that and their mom heard them.  She said, with sincerity, "You three, should go on tour."  I was there when Grandma Hoffman said this.  Her daughters were in their 60's, and her hearing was definitely going.  She truly thought her daughters singing was glorious!  Oh, a mother's love is priceless.

The stationary bike, ski thing, and sleepovers
A Nordic track was the ski thing.  It had shoes left in it all the time.  You could slip your feet into the shoes if you suddenly felt the desire to exercise.  My kids would do this when they went over to grandma and grandpa's.  When they recall sleepovers, they remembered watching The Aristocats on VHS, making forts with the cushions of the couch and playing with, then eating peanut butter play doh.

What wonderful memories to recall!

I wonder if my son knew the magnitude of the gift he was giving?

                              ~Lisa Kroll
                                        former DIL and proud mom