This evening, I poured shot of Ezra Brooks and sipped while I rolled out this year’s batch of bourbon balls. The feeling brought back warm memories of Christmases past in my grandparents’ house.
Ezra Brooks was my grandfather’s bourbon of choice, and my grandmother taught me how to make bourbon balls.
My grandparents were married on Christmas Eve, so there was always a party the night before Christmas at their huge house on Dalzell Street. Food, booze, and talk flowed freely. It was a raucous good time.
Later, some or all of us would go to midnight mass. I’ve never been very religious, but I loved going to St. John’s Catholic Church (now a cathedral) at midnight. There was something soothing about the sing-song Latin mass. (I was sad when the Catholic Church switched to native-language masses.)
One year on Christmas Eve, Santa came to my grandparents’ house to see the kids, but instead, the kids chased him down the street. I didn’t know Santa could run that fast! Good thing he forgave us and brought us presents anyway.
My grandparents have been gone a long time now, and the huge old house is in other hands. We’ve made new memories and new traditions, but I will never forget the good old times.
Here’s to good Christmases, past and future.