Love From Aunt Clara

"Is that ALL?"

First of all, in response to Jackson's glorious depiction of the Christmas-I-was-trampled, there are just no words. We'll find the footage one of these days from that giant beast of a camera we used to have that Dad would set up in the corner of the living room, and THAT will tell the true story.

December 20, '97
It's so soon until Christmas. 5 MORE DAYS! Holly got home the 18th And we had a sleepover last night. It was fun!
Holly and Kristen went skiing and so I have absolutely nothing to do. I just went shopping and got some Christmas presants and stickers.Grandma Bee really isn't doing well, she has a cold. (and if when I'm older and forget grandma just can't have a cold well she'll pretty much die if she gets one.) Grandpa Forri has canser in his neck and he's takiing cemo theropy (which I think won't make hime look any different anyway!). He has to stay by the bathroom a lot cause of this medicene he's taking. Grandpa Jack is just having a little problem with his back.Grandma Lillian is just fine. They keep working at the temple.
The iceskating rink is open for the fist time in four years!! I'm going to get ready to go any minute now. MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Josie Olsen

I think it's funny that I randomly gave an update on the grandparents. And isn't it interesting to look at Grandpa's cancer through a 10 year old's eyes. Now, 10 years later, it's back.

December 25, 1999
Today is Christmas... I can't believe it!!! We have talked with Holly for fieve hours!!! Cool, huh?!?! Charlene is here for Uncle Mike's wedding w/Sherrie on New Years Day.

(Notice I wasn't afraid to use punctuation liberally. I remember that I learned the "?!?!" move from Sunday comic strips... )

Now, I believe that was the year we remember the famous, "IS THAT ALL???" comment from Mom. Just to clarify, that comment was made because Mom was making a tape for Holly while we weren't talking to her so she wouldn't miss anything on her mission. When the tape ran out Mom felt it was too fast, I assume, which is why she asked the infamous question, which made Dad (sitting next to her), look around the tree and say something to the effect of, "Look, there are some more for you over here." The misunderstanding between cassette tape and Christmas presents for Mom has gone down in history as a favorite Christmas moment.

December 25, 2007
The end of another beautiful Christmas season. Definitely one of my all-time favorites. Everything was lovely. We kept up most of our traditions too. We went skiing on Christmas Eve, something we try to do every year but aren't always able to. We played fun family games all throughout the week (Kill Doctor Lucky, Celebrity, Chess with Bryan, etc).
The Christmas Eve feast was, as usual, my favorite meal of the year (inncluding Thanksgiving, mind you). Mom goes all out decorating. Dad passed around a bowl with slips of paper this year with job assignments on them and said no switching. I couldn't believe the luck: Pete, our only guest drew "prayer" (it didn't sound like he was accustomed to doing this, expecially when I believe he started quoting a famous prayer out of "Meet the Parents"), and Jackson drew "take care of the 3 infants (Isaac, Peter, and Ruby)-- INCLUDING DIAPERS"! What Dad didn't realize was that the real baby here would be Jackson, who doesn't change diapers or deal with the liquids that seem to ooze out of children.
I cleared the food, which is only worth noting because I managed to spill sweet potatoes an the table cloth in two places, drip salad dressing, AND knock a glass of water over. I have a serious problem to which I will likely need the assistance of professionals to conquer.
After the family left for the evening, and after watching "It's a Wonderful Life", a family favorite, Clay, Jackson, Celeste, and I set up camp in the basement family room where we played games before drifting off to sleep.
Christmas Eve was lovely. It was like a postcard for Logan. Thick snow covered tree branches, roofs, and the roads. The only thing that took away was when Jackson and I finished painting walls at Advent Creative (family business) and I dropped my phone in a bucket of white paint. Spilling isn't my only Achilles' heel.
Christmas morning was fun this year since the triplets, aka: Leif, Olivia, and Eliza, are old enough to understand presents but young enough to still say the most adorable things. Oh it was so cute, I never want to forget it!
This year all our gifts had reindeer names on them, not our names. It was a code. Mom is so cute like that. She always tries to go above and beyond.
We had our traditional Christmas morning breakfast. Grandma and Grandpa Kidd, Grandpa Fory, and Uncle Terry came. We had omelets, sausages, and strawberry crepes. Yum.
I love Olsen Christmas!
Josie

I think that entry captures a typical Olsen Christmas at its finest. Even as an adult I feel the magic of Christmas- and it's no surprise we owe that to our mother. The woman voluntarily teaches a Chistmas class for crying out loud.

A Christmas Tragedy

While we all enjoy the warm memories that the Christmas season inevitably produces, I'd like to call everyone's attention to a not-so-sweet memory that was born out of greed and selfishness one gloomy Christmas morn.

As is tradition in the Olsen household, the children of the house were quarantined either up or downstairs on Christmas Eve to prevent any interference with Santa Claus and his help. That evening produced little sleep and probably unhealthy amounts of anxiety for us kids as we prepared for what would undoubtedly be the greatest day of the year. We would play board games, harass the few party-poopers who were pretending to be asleep, and watch the clock with desperation as the moment of redemption - the Christmas present rush - crept slowly closer.

After literally hours of waiting, mom and dad finally woke up (they were such slackers on Christmas morning). Dad would set up the video camera, mom would ready the Christmas music (usually John Denver and the Muppets), and the grandparents would sit comfortably on the couch, never complaining about having to accommodate our ridiculously early morning schedule. We children would line up at the top (or bottom) of the stairs in order of age, the youngest being at the front of the line. We were literally shaking with anxiety. Christmas had finally come, and after 11 months and 29 days and 23 hours of waiting, we were on the brink of imploding.

Now, I was always a cool-headed fellow about these things. Cool-hand Jack, that's what they used to call me. But my siblings were a gaggle of uncontrollable Christmas zealots. On this particular Christmas morning, I remember Clay was especially eratic. As my mother yelled "GO!" I immediately felt the push of five older and stronger siblings at my back, all surging with adrenaline and hopped up on eggnog and the candy they had snuck from their gingerbread houses. While Clay foamed at the mouth, practically speaking in tongues, I tried with all the strength I could muster to prevent this hoard from consuming my poor younger sister who was at the edge of the stairs. But alas, my strength was insufficient, and I gave way to the running of the bulls. This in turn knocked my poor sister from her feet, causing her to tumble down the length of those unforgiving wooden stairs. The antique iron set that lined those stairs didn't help any as she fell like a ragdoll onto the hard floor of the entryway. As her brutal descent came to an end, I rushed to her, and cradling her head in my arms, cried out, "Why?! Gods of Christmas, whyyyyy?!"

Her fall was a tragic one, but perhaps the biggest tragedy of the day is that I - yes, Cool-hand Jack - was blamed for her bruises. My heart was already torn from my chest at the sight of my dear sister being victimized by the insanity of my siblings. And then, by placing fault on my head, my family stamped on my barely beating heart.

It was a dark cloud in the history books of Christmas, and from henceforth, we shall never speak of it again.