Bah Humbug to the Busy Christmas Season

         I know everyone loves the Christmas season; it is such a happy, time– “the most wonderful time of the year.” Most people have only good memories of this holiday.

Ed on our first Christmas 1963

         I guess I am a grinch. Many of my Christmases have been very hard and depressing. Not the Christmas day or even Christmas Eve, but the overwhelming Christmas season.

         Before I be stoned for denigrating the happiness of the Christmas season, let me explain why.

I have happy memories of my childhood Christmas memories, and even my early marriage years. But sometime after I had several children, and was so busy with daily activities, I realized that I was too swamped to enjoy all the added activities of the Christmas season. I had to decorate for Christmas, adorn a tree, and make new Christmas ornaments. I had to make endless Christmas cookies, candies, and treats. I had to take my children to all the Christmas programs, see the downtown  I was responsible to create Christmas letters, then address and send them with the Christmas cards.  I must get and deliver neighborhood gifts, then buy, and wrap all the Christmas gifts for the family.  School teachers, piano teachers, newspaper carriers, and my hairdresser must have a Christmas gift or tip. Even listing all of it makes me tired. I don’t even want to see Christmas movies or television shows—I just want to pretend it’s January.

lights and watch all the seasonal movies.

      Why not let your family help you do these endless chores? Some chores it worked with—making personal Christmas ornaments, decorating the tree and making the treats. But sometimes sharing the jobs made more work than doing it yourself.

      Why not cut back on all the “stuff”? That was my husband’s idea when I complained about everything I had to do. When I suggested he help, he said he didn’t think it needed to be done—why was I so compulsive about doing it? When asked if he would go shopping with the children to get their gifts, he said he didn’t have time—besides that was a woman’s job. (This was in the male chauvinist era of the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s). However, he would get my gift and sometimes get extra gifts for himself since he wasn’t sure I was in a jolly-enough mood to get all he wanted.

        The other big dispute at my house was the BIG CHRISTMAS DINNER.  My husband had grownup with a tradition of having a big family dinner every Christmas day, with family from all around attending. It was bigger than Thanksgiving. My family tradition was a Danish/American blend—we would open one gift on Christmas Eve to satisfy my 1^st generation Danish mother, and then just enjoy Christmas day snacking and eating all the stuff in our Christmas stockings (I made sure to put in lots of fruits and healthy stuff). This did not meet my husband’s specifications at all. 

        We were in the military during the time, so no one from out of town would be attending—it would just be like a fancy Sunday dinner. I am sure I broke down and made a big Christmas dinner many years, but the one year that sticks out was when we invited friends and had a real feast—

however, I had scarlet fever and was so sick with a high fever that I couldn’t eat—but I still prepared, decorated, cooked the dinner and cleaned up afterward as sick as I was. I eventually developed post-streptococcus glomerular nephritis from it that damaged my kidneys and took years to recover from. Never again did my husband insists on a big holiday feast with friends and relatives.

        What has changed my attitude, now? Well, I have cut back. I am in my mid-70s with no little children, so I cut out a big Christmas tree; I don’t mail out Christmas cards anymore—sorry, no one wants to hear about their friends’

grandchildren and great-grandchildren when they can’t even keep track of their children. I give money to all but the smallest family members—mostly great-grandchildren, who I buy gifts for in November. I listen to Christmas music and remember that Christmas is about Christ, who came to save us all. I try to do little things when I can to let my neighbors and friends know I care about them—but the competition to see who can give the best neighborhood gift, or cook the best treats passes me by. I try to give gifts of service or give to charities or people who really need the help, rather than try for busiest and most headache-filled Christmas of the year!

        Christmas Eve is always the same as it has been—my favorite time of the season—to read the Christmas story from the Bible and talk about how Christ’s birth changed the world. I sometimes convince my family to don the New Testament Nativity costumes that I made years ago in my manic stage and reenact the first Christmas, but if we don’t, it’s okay.

       

I enjoy the Christmas season, now. I enjoy the time with family and friends, and I am most grateful for the best Christmas gift—the Savior.

Antiques and Ancestors

My two grandmothers were polar opposites. My grandmother Hansen—Imelda—was tall, thin, prim, and very proper. My other grandmother—Kristine—was blunt, well-built, more endearing than fussy and spoke broken English.

Imelda Christiana Miller

Both had hard lives—widowed in their 40s and having to support themselves for many years.

Imelda had been the oldest daughter of a prestigious family in Southern Utah. Her father was postmaster and Superintendent of the Schools. They were well-to-do and she grew up with many material advantages. They weren’t wealthy—no one was in pioneer days in Utah—but she had many advantages.

Kristine Amalia Mortensen

Kristine, on the other hand, was born in Denmark, the seventh of eight children. When her youngest

brother was born a year after her, both her brother and her mother died. Kristine eventually was taken in by her future husband’s mother Oline Larsen. Oline and her second husband, Jørgen Hannibal, raised Kristine. It was interesting that Kristine’s family in Denmark was not as dirt-poor as many of the pioneers, and her foster mother’s home was nice, and expensive portraits were made of the family members.

In Kristine’s life, the family was always important and photo portraits were shared with family on both sides of the Atlantic. They reflected a close-knit family that did not allow distance to truly separate themselves from each other.

Kristine's grape arbor

Kristine's chair

Whenever I think of Kristine, I think of a shadowed grape arbor, black currents, an Adirondack chair and many flowers.

Imelda also loved flowers and had peonies, roses, coral bells, and

many other “showy” flowers.

Both of my grandmothers loved to sew and crochet and were very domestic. Both loved to garden.

Float from Imelda's giftshop in parade

Both were entrepreneurial. After Imelda’s husband died, Imelda opened a gift shop, where she sold jewelry, gifts, candy, and souvenirs.

Kristine's "Dream Book"

Kristine at one time self-published a book, “Hannibal Dream Book” by K. A. Hannibal. Hannibal was her foster mother’s 2^nd husband’s name, and I think she used it because she didn’t want to use her own name.

Shakers

When I think of Imelda, I look at some of the fine things she left me--a silver-plate salt and pepper shaker her children gave her, a shell-doll that she must have sold in her gift shop. I also have a carnival glass tea set given to me by Imelda’s younger sisters. They had collected all these nice treasures for their hope chests and when they were old and unmarried, they gave away them away to their family members getting married, of which I was a one. Every time I look at the tea set, I think of the hopes and dreams that they put it aside with, and which they then gave to me as a wedding gift.

Carnival glass tea set given me by Imelda's sisters

Imelda was a fine seamstress and a dressmaker who loved fine clothes and hats. Her husband, Willy, sold one of his horses in the 1910s to purchase Imelda a new singer treadle sewing machine. I have it now and treasure it because Imelda taught me to sew, and I too love to sew as Imelda did.

Doily from Kristine

Kristine’s health was never very good, but she crocheted many things to sell during her life. She made me a delicate white crocheted dress that I wore as a toddler, many hotplates, table runners, crochet heart-shaped pillows and many other things.

All these items represent Imelda’s love of fine things, of linen tablecloths and cloth napkins and fine china. Not at all what you’d expect in a pioneer home in small-town Monroe, Utah.

Candlesticks of Kristine's

The items I have from Kristine are hand-crochet doilies, a Danish-style blue cross-stitch small tablecloth, and a simple bowl and candle holder. I know that Kristine made me several white crocheted dresses that I and my sisters wore as girls. I also remember a heart-shaped a satin pillow covered in crochet that was always in her room.

Kristine’s things were well-crafted but utilitarian items, and nothing of great value.

For years while Kristine was bed-bound, she crocheted items to sell in her small town of Corinne. 

One of Kristine’s greatest treasures were several scrapbooks of poems, stories, and quotes pasted onto paper.

In the front of the book, all the articles are in English, which Kristine was very proficient in, but in

the back were poems and articles in Danish, beautifully handwritten in Kristine’s beautiful script.

Although Kristine spoke with a heavy Danish accent, she loved poetry and literature and wanted to review her favorites often. I can see her reading them to her children to encourage and uplift them. She wasn’t well-educated, but she was very well-read and knowledgeable.

In the early years, Kristine’s Danish family sent a fancy doll to Kristine’s family, which was very dear to them. It was something that apparently, they couldn’t afford for themselves.

Imelda's sewing machine

Imelda had been a seamstress and dressmaker long before she married, and she prided herself on her fine workmanship. In the early years of their marriage, Imelda’s husband, Willy, sold a horse to purchase a Singer treadle sewing machine. Imelda taught me to sew, a favorite hobby of mine, so her treasured sewing machine in a wooden cabinet is a special remembrance of her.

Kristine’s love of family was shown during World War II, after her husband’s death, when they were so poor. Nevertheless, they always tried to send food and clothes to her family left behind in Denmark where conditions were often so much worse, especially after the war.

Genealogy sheet

It is interesting that both of my grandparents loved genealogy and family history. Imelda spent years researching names of family members, both her Miller line and her husband’s Hansen line, and in taking them to the temple. In her later years when she lived with Aunt Wilma, Imelda would go into Salt Lake City to the Family History Library where she would search microfilm to record individuals in family group sheets. Her carefully recorded notes list where she found each piece of information. She was very proud of her membership in the Genealogical Society of Utah. 

Kristine and her family often sent money to Denmark to research information on the family and put together the names for the temple work, but the family history records that I have are in Kristine’s husband’s name and handwriting.

It is interesting that Imelda and Kristine were only two years apart in age—Imelda was born in 1885 and Kristine in 1887.

Imelda in her sixties

Kristine in her sixties

Imelda died of heart problems and a stroke in 1960, at  the age of 75 years old, while Kristine died in 1952 at the age of 65 years old, of heart problems and cancer.

Two ladies so alike, and yet so different!

Trip to New York City--part 3

Friday, July 26th - NYC

We took an early subway and ferry past the Statue of Liberty to Ellis Island where we spent

The family with the Statue of Liberty

most of the day.  It is a fascinating place to see where immigrants landed and were examined carefully before they were allowed in the country. If you were not healthy enough, you were given a return ticket to your homeland. The large hall where they waited to talk to the Registrar and to begin the inspection process was intimidating. Later Dirk and I got time on a computer to find our ancestors. Dirk found his easily, but my only ancestor who might have come

Ellis Island

through Ellis Island was Kristine Amalia Mortensen who came in April of 1907, but I could find no record of her. When I got back to the Family History Library in Salt Lake City, I found her immigration record—she came in through Boston, not New York. showed her correct age, that she was traveling from Denmark to Brigham, Utah where she would meet her brother, Peter Hendrickson. I was excited to see the record because no one else had located it before.

Not a big deal if it is not airconditioned, and you are in the bottom
especially during rush hour traffic

We got a Hop-On/Hop-Off pass there at Ellis Island, but it was brutally hot and the bus that came had no seats below and no air conditioning, so we roasted as we traveled through traffic back to the closest stop to our hotel available due to rush-hour traffic blocking.

You would think we would give up on the Hop-On Hop-Off tours, but most of the family took a nighttime tour on them to Brooklyn and back.

Saturday, July 27, 2019: NYC

Trinity Church on 1 Wallstreet

We visited Times Square and then the VanderMeydens saw a matinee of “Waitress” on Broadway.

I took the Hop on-hop off bus to lower Manhattan where I got off at Trinity Church, where Wall Street begins. This church (which was under massive reconstruction) is where Ed’s Dutch ancestors had rented the land for the Church before the Revolutionary War. After the war, there was a dispute about ownership and Ed’s ancestors lost the land which even six generations later would be unbelievably expensive.

I then took the Hop on/Hop off bus to upper Manhattan where I saw Central Park, and many other noted places. I know many people think Hop On/Hop Off buses are a cop-out, but Ed and I have gone on them all over the world, and I think they can give you an overview of a city, as well as a chance to stop at various places and then get on and continue the tour.

Frozen the play

That night Jenni, Dirk, James and I saw “Frozen” and Athena and Emma went to “Mean Girls” on Broadway. I was disappointed a bit in “Frozen” as it appeared to be an excuse to make a Broadway show from the film. Most of the music was new, however, and I especially liked the song “Hygga” about the Scandinavian word for good things.

SUNDAY, JULY 28, 2019: NYC

Family at the Manhattan Church Building

We got up early and took the subway to the Manhattan building where Church meetings and the Temple are. We enjoyed Sacrament Meeting, visited with Jenni’s friends from Layton before we walked around and got something to eat and headed toward the Natural History Museum friends from Layton.

Me and the metro system 

Jenni & I

Now, I must admit I struggled walking 10,000 to 20,000 steps a day during our time in New York, especially since my right knee rebuild was less than five months past and I’d torn my left rotator cuff the week before. Jenni got to be my assistant and would help me go slower. This time, I suggested taking the subway to the Natural History Museum, while the rest walked (or as it appeared to me, double-timed). Well, Jenni and I got on the wrong train, then the stop we needed to get out on was blocked for repair, Jenni and I got off, two stops from when we’d gotten on. ONLY, the train hadn’t gone parallel to the direction of the museum, but at a left angle, so we were fortunate to have gotten off when we did, or we would have been further away from the museum than we already were! They called us to ask us where we were, and we were trekking along the long blocks New York is famous for, instead of the short blocks that are easy. Dirk came to meet us, and we finally arrived at the museum a long time after everyone else had.

The Museum, which is the site of “Night of the Museum” movies, is a fabulous place, but I was overwhelmed and overtired. The rest zipped through all of the Museum afraid to miss a thing while I took my time and enjoyed the exhibits that I did see, before heading back to the entrance before it closed.

You’d think with the day I had had, I would have been too tired, but Jenni and I took the Hop On/Hop Off night tour which was really a delight.

MONDAY, JULY 29, 2019: 9-11 Museum & home.

Our family outside  9-11 Museum

We checked out of our hotel but stored our luggage there before we headed out to what I thought was a real highlight of our trip—the 9-11 Memorial, commemorating the day in September 2002 when terrorists fly planes into the Twin Towers buildings in Manhattan. There is the outer memorial, a footprint of the one tower which is now a pool, with names of the deceased on a frame around the water. You could see where people had placed flowers on the names of loved ones for their birthdays, or other reasons. It was very humbling.

Inside the Museum, it was exhibit after exhibit showing that famous day and things affected

Painting of 9-11

by the attack. The neatest exhibit was one where you couldn’t take photos but it chronologized that infamous day! I felt as I did when I visited Gettysburg battlefield or the Auschwitz Concentration Camp in Germany—overcome with sorrow at the loss of life.

We went back to the hotel and picked up our bags to go to JFK Airport. I was extremely tired, so I paid for Jenni and me to take the hotel shuttle to the airport, while the rest of the family took the by-then familiar subway. What a mistake that was!

The shuttle made one stop at the airport and then called for all individuals going to the 2^nd Terminal to get out. If he’d added, go upside and take the AirTran to the Delta Terminal, we’d have

Our walk from terminal to terminal

been fine, but he had just dropped us off at the 4^th terminal and left us there on the sidewalk. We began our infinitely long walk along the outside of the terminals (which are not close together) to get to the right terminal, with our bags. Athena kept calling to find out where we were since they were there waiting! Finally, when we arrived at the terminal, Athena was waiting with a wheelchair and we zipped through security (since we had a TSA pre-check). It was an amazingly short walk from the security to our gate, but I appreciated the break I’d had after my long walk. I still feel embarrassed to have had a wheelchair there in the terminal.

Looking back, I really think I should have had a sign on my head, saying, “GPS needed; she always gets lost,” because I swear if there were two ways to go anywhere—I’d take the long way. Even when I got on the subway when I was by myself, I headed to Brooklyn instead of Times Square, until someone set me right. But I must admit, I got my steps in walking in the city.

The other thing I disliked about New York City was that it was humid that no matter what I

The only good shot of my hair in New York--at the Temple

did with my hair, it stayed straight and limp.

We had a late flight home, but I had a window seat, so I watched as the big cities below, lit up with lights, paraded before my eyes. I did see several movies on the plane, including “Peterloo,” based on the Peterloo Massacre of 1819 in England when the aristocratic leaders of England thought the public meeting in Lancashire was the beginning of the

A scene from my plan window

masses revolting like the French for a new England. Of course, it wasn’t but men, women, and children died for the fears of the aristocrats. I had read a lot about it, so it was interesting, though I don’t know how truthful.

We finally arrived back home where Emma’s boyfriend’s family met us and drove us home. It was a fun trip—with variation from Church sites to Baseball Museums to Vermont (where we got maple syrup) to a historical family home, and lots of NYC.